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Grade
8

Steve Johnson was an ordinary man, he was slightly overweight, went to the bar on Friday and had a desk job for a company with no moral values. He had a mop of mud-brown hair in a combover that sure didn’t compliment him and always wore clothes a size too big. Everyday he would wake up, eat a plain bowl of Quaker Oatmeal and leave for his job.

Today was one of those days, but worse, it was Monday. Steve, in general, was a neutral man, his opinions never really showed so you couldn’t tell whether he liked something or not, but not with Monday. Tuesday was alright, because it wasn’t Monday, same with Wednesday, Thursday was good because it was almost Friday and Friday is almost the weekend. Saturday was nice because of sleeping in until noon, Sunday was just still the weekend, along with a nice crossword puzzle from the New York Times. But Monday, just Monday, was the day that he despised. He had to go to work knowing that his 65 hour work-week was still unfinished and that a perfectly fine weekend was gone. So, with regrets, he started his week by walking out of Apartment 37 in a very average apartment complex. He stepped out of the building, giving no heed to the beautiful spring day and turned right, right off to his job.

His apartment wasn’t large or small, just normal, typical you might put it. The apartment was beige, Steve’s favorite color, along with some white trimmings that were peeling and perpetually in a potato chip-cracking. He had a kitchen with an oven and stove that were quite out of date and an orange metallic-rust, but served their purpose nonetheless. But mainly he just used his microwave for his TV dinners. He also had his bedroom, just big enough to fit his bed, which had a few springs popping out of the coffee stained mattress, and his dresser. But out of everything he prized his TV the most (in a close second is his couch, reflective from potato chip grease), which stood proudly in his dining room, being commonly repurposed as a living room.

 

When Steve Johnson came back from work he did what he always did, he put a TV dinner in the microwave and plopped down on the couch. He turned the channel to a sappy drama, next a political debate, a reality TV show, a Simpson’s rerun, a documentary, another Simpson’s rerun. When he was done staring pointlessly into the flickering television Steve walked over to his microwave and took out a hot TV dinner complete with a cold beer from the fridge. When he decided to go to bed (which nearly wasn’t a decision anymore considering the past 6 years of repetitive activities) it was already close to midnight. Having completed Monday Steve walked semi-triumphantly to his bed and fell asleep.

 

Steve woke up at 7:00 in the morning like he had the past 6 years of working at his job, he put on a new black suit that he had ironed for half an hour to get rid of the wrinkles that would perpetually plague his suit, and awkwardly put on a red and black striped tie and in a futile attempt to be welcomed into society as someone with a life. He ate some Quaker Oatmeal and left his apartment, picking up a briefcase with unfinished projects, assignments and energy bars.

Upon stepping onto the sidewalk a ping of conscience hit him, it could have been from the way the sun shined today, or maybe his horoscope had something to do with it. Why did he do this routine every single day? So in the small act of choosing something different from the algorithmic life he led, instead of heading of to work, he turned left.

 

So with hopes and dreams, Steve and his trusty briefcase began their journey to absolutely nowhere in particular, save the purpose of doing something in his life. Steve started his journey by walking across the Rose Bridge, an absolute landmark in his city for not following the pattern brought by the corporate building. The Rose Bridge was known for the roses that surround the area and the stunning carvings in the side of the structure. The bridge also had wondrous vines crawling up the old and weathered bricks. A bubbling river full of algae meandered through the bridge and into the sunrise. This bridge, of course, he had never been to. To fully grasp this new “wonder” Steve walked across it, below it, to the side of it and through it. On his way going above the bridge for a second time, Steve saw a man below him. The man beckoned Steve over. Steve gracelessly jogged over to him. The man was wearing a tattered old brown coat, which seemed like it was taken straight from an ‘80s sci-fi movie, and ripped up pants that he seemed to have gotten from the river running by.

“Will ya’ lend a hand to a poor old man, kind sir?” said the Poor Old Man.

“ What do you need?” asked Steve, contemplating the Poor Old Man.

“What do ya’ have?” questioned the Poor Old Man.

“Half-eaten energy bars and unfinished business projects,” said Steve “Want some?”

“Please,” the Poor Old Man said, so Steve left him with some of his half-eaten energy bars and a couple of the easier assignments, approximately difficult enough for a decent entry-level employee to handle..

 

Steve continued his journey with the new experience of meeting a poor person. This experience made him question many things he had done, and why, why does he go to work everyday? What is his purpose in life? In search of a greater meaning in his quest and reason for existence, Steve walked across his city to find out more about his life. Walking through the city Steve saw many things, children playing gleefully in a blissful ignorance of the greater meaning of life, concerts in small local parks which attracted hordes of die-hard rock-and-roll fans, and people sitting down talking to each other; with deep interest. The city was huge with great skyscrapers towering above, wind whipped around and cart stand owners beckoned people to them. Steve observed all of this at a distance carefully pondering the actions and behaviors that everyone made.

At 6:00 pm everyone had started to go home and the concerts had started to slow down, leaving a ringing in people’s ears. Steve, after watching the bustling metropolis, decided to go into the countryside to find himself and experience a different way of living. Since the major bussing companies had only intercity travel, Steve decided to walk. He passed the looming buildings that surrounded him, high and mighty with silver, elegant, curving skyscrapers. Steve saw people, ecstatic from the day’s fun.

“Why is this like this?” Steve wondered aloud.

 

Steve continued his quest to the countryside. As he started to get farther from the center of the city things started to pan out, he saw cattle chewing cud and lumbering around on the horizon. No assignments, meetings and whatnot. Steve hadn’t considered how boring a life of a cow might be, they don’t have anything to do. They are born, they eat food, they die. That was their life. Then again, Steve pondered, maybe they like it that way, maybe I would like it. So Steve decided to sleep on it. With his briefcase as a pillow, Steve set up camp under a nice oak tree in a grassy plain. The tree wasn’t too big yet and provided a good amount of shade. It fanned out as an umbrella over him and the micro-organisms around him. The ground was moist from morning dew, dampening his suit. As Steve stopped thinking so much and just looked, he noticed plenty of life around him. A colony of ants were carrying some food for the queen, a squirrel had just buried an acorn and looked around, perpetually nervous. All this life, and none of it could contemplate their existence and why they work so hard. This type of philosophy annoyed Steve, so with his busy day behind him, he dozed off into sleep.

 

Steve woke up in the morning lying down next to a bald man wearing bright orange clothes, with some white fabric among them. The day had a small orange glow to it, from the rain the day before, the thin clouds parsed among the happily glowing sun. Steve sat up and tried to wake up a little more.

“Good morning,” said the Bald Man in a euphoric yet subdued voice.

“Howdy,” said Steve, straightening his tie “Do you have a moment to talk?”

“A moment or an hour, I’m always ready.” said the Bald Man with a serene warmth circling his body.

“Great, because I need to verify my existence,” Steve said with some hope in his voice.

“Then sit with me, we will become one with the world.” the Bald Man said, beckoning Steve to sit with him. The Bald Man easily slid into lotus position while Steve was struggling to get comfortable. They sat together in a soothing silence, listening to the animals around them, the wind blowing and the trees shaking. Steve’s shoulders relaxed and dropped as he took the world in. All these animals that Steve had previously been pondering about suddenly felt more alive than before. He recognized that they did have a conscience, no matter how small it may be. After a half-hour of sitting down and just listening Steve opened his eyes to find that there were animals all around him. These animals, just living their lives like any other day, working around him,

“So, how do you feel now?” questioned the Bald Man.

“Wonderful,” said Steve, snapping out of his harmonic glaze. This sitting and thinking helped Steve. He still felt incomplete, but in a more defined way.

“Thank you for all your help,” said Steve as he stood up, brushed the small clumps of dirt off his clothes and walked back to the city feeling new readiness he hadn’t experienced before.

 

Upon returning to his house and sitting down Steve thought about the marvelous adventure he had just experienced, meeting new people and seeing new things. The comfort of the known no longer gave him peace as he longed to explore into the world that he had just experienced. Steve thought about the future for the first time in too long. Steve thought about the restrictions his job might bring him and the futility of his work, after seeing such beautiful things and meeting such wonderful people he no longer felt like going to his job. So the next morning, Steve woke up and didn’t turn at all, walking straight forwards.