Before his next shift, Krell went to see a certain general to call in a very large chip. Being a night guard had its perks. Having caught said general rolling around in the bush with a fellow general, Krell was sure the general would do all he could to avoid a nasty divorce and public scandal. Krell explained to the general that he needed an honorable discharge immediately. Say it was due to medical or whatever credible reason he had to, but he needed it done now.
And here he sat, finishing out his last night of duty. He sighed heavily, wondering how had his life spiraled out of control. Sure, he wanted more, wanted differently. Two ebolutions ago when he had signed his enlistment papers for required military service, he knew this wasn’t the life he wanted. He didn’t want to be the contracted male of a female who was obligated to care for him and their offspring. He didn’t want the very beige, suburban life that his parents had willingly accepted.
That restlessness in the pit of stomach is what had led him to the rebels in the first place. While he still didn’t hold the same romantic notions they held, he knew he didn’t want the traditional life either. Despite how it happened, this was Krell’s opportunity to choose his own path. He laughed, “Why is my life playing out like a bad b-rated reel?”
He didn’t know why, but he felt Trekia would come tonight. This whole confidence and assurance was new. Everything was new. Like how with little provocation he could go off on a tirade or break down into a crying fit. These emotional swings were worse than his premenstrual symptoms and before now, he didn’t think anything could be worse than emotional deviant he became during his cycle.
He needed to see Trekia. He owed her an apology. While he had no desire to be contracted, he did care for her. He wanted to tell her about his decision to have their offspring; that he was leaving soon for the commune outside the city. He wanted her to know that if she still wanted him, she could find him there and together they’d decide if they wanted to spend their lives together. He’d tell her he wanted a partner, not a mother figure demanding to be obeyed. He would not be anyone’s underling. Either they were equals or they were nothing.
"We need to talk."
Each week at 3WW, Thom posts 3 words. This week's words are quarrel, opportunity and service. Then we have at it. This is the conclusion of a three part story. To read more entries, go here.