The Time It Takes To Fall

The Measurement for a Jiffy

USA, 2019 A.D.

The gentle thump of Cinder's messenger bag against her leg was as constant as the cool falling rain, though Cinder didn't hear any of it.

She had her earbuds in, threaded up under her black sweatshirt. Her mousy hair lay out of its messy tail and tangled around the chord of her earbuds beneath her hood. The music was loud, with a thumping bass and ranging vocals that could be heard if one got close enough.

But no one was around.

Cinder wandered the streets as a lone pedestrian, all the occupants of the small town gathered in their homes. Everything outside was both dark and light all at once. There was no sun, but the clouds cast a sheen of brightness across everything despite the rain.

Rain was almost as common as trees in the evergreen state, always coming down in a calming cadence, suggesting that of a sweet lullaby. Not that anyone had ever sung Cinder a lullaby, but she liked to imagine it: the gentle, tender love that emanated from the singer. The feeling of safety. The feeling of being loved. A feeling that Cinder hadn't felt in a very long time.

Cinder had left her past behind, abandoning all the sordid memories and imbrued scars. Leaving was the only thing that saved her after her sister's death. Well, leaving and Iko. Though the leaving itself had all been due to Iko's persuasion.

Iko was the only thing in Cinder's life that had ever been constant. She had been the one to spot Cinder's hurting beneath all the lies. She had encouraged Cinder to get away— to run as far as she could from the awful things that Cinder was undergoing. Iko had even helped her to do it, and moved out to be with Cinder as soon as she could.

If it weren't for Iko, Cinder didn't know where she would be, but it definitely wouldn't be where she was now. She wouldn't be walking to her own apartment from a job that she actually enjoyed. She wouldn't be free and happy— and she valued that fact more than anything else in the world.

Droplets of rain continued to fall, but so did Cinder's footsteps. The distance from Rampion's Repairs to Cinder's dinky apartment wasn't far, but walking the entirety of it always took her over half an hour. Cinder didn't mind though. She enjoyed the walk— and besides, she had never gotten her driver's license.

The smell of wet cement and moistened flowers rose all around Cinder pleasantly, filling her with a sense of peace. She loved the rain more than just about anything else. Perhaps that was what had stopped her from leaving Washington entirely.

Everything around Cinder was ordinary— exactly as it always was. But for some reason, it all felt different.

Cinder couldn't get Kai Prince out of her head. It wasn't as if Cinder hadn't met odd people before— she had lived in Seattle once— but he was unusual in an inexplicable way. He had a manner that reminisced of ancient times, but an awkwardness that made him all too likable. He had looked at her as if the sun sparkled within her soul, and spoken to her as if she were the loveliest of creatures. He was something special, something unearthly. His entire persona was unique to the universe, and Cinder longed to study it more in depth.

But that was crazy. He was nothing but a customer, passing through the small town on his way to do greater things. The odds of Cinder even speaking to him again were slim, but still— he had caught her eye, and that in itself was unusual enough.

The run-down apartment building that Cinder called home came into sight, and she sighed; she may have met an unusual boy that day, but her life was still the same— and fantasizing over him wouldn't do her any good. Cinder needed to forget Kai Prince. She needed to let go of the boy with the coppery eyes, but for some reason, it seemed impossible.