and then i decided to write a book.

and this is the opening chapter.

She would sit in the corners of small cafes and watch the world go by. Claire never knew exactly what it was she was looking for but she knew that she never found it. She would sit, sipping her coffee, waiting. She would watch the couples strolling by, arms linked together happily. She would sneer. “Love,” she thought. “What a bunch of bullshit.”

Claire was a cynic. She did not believe in stupid matters like love and romance. She knew that there was no such thing in the world. The idea of being forever tied to another person was one to be completely abhorred in her mind. Marriage? No, thank you. Claire would much prefer to wade through the murky waters of life on her own. She did not need another person lagging along to point out what she was doing wrong., as she was sure any partner, if they could be called that, would do. Rather, Claire preferred her solitude. She liked to sit on her own, observing the world. Seeing what everyone was doing wrong, in her opinion, as that was the only one that could matter.

As she spent her days, working in an office, typing press releases, Claire grew restless. “There must be something to do,” she thought. But alas, there was not. Claire, in her unending cynicism, had alienated any friends she might have once had. They did not take kindly to being told that their way of life was wrong, as Claire insisted she do. Thus, there was no one to help Claire when she reached moments such as this one. And so, on she went, going about her daily routine, lacking gusto. She would work all day, spending her evenings in the café, acting the voyeur to others’ lives.

To use the term voyeur may not be appropriate. In many cases today this has a certain sexuality attached to it. In the case of Claire there was nothing of the sort. She just watched. And judged. She was a very judgmental person. Anyone who did not seem to agree with the strict guidelines she set forth to live by, such as the no relationships rule, was to be looked down upon. And Claire gladly did that. There were small moments when she would begin to doubt herself and the choices she made, but they were quickly brushed away. She might regret for a moment her choices but not for long. She knew that what she was doing must be correct, right?

One evening, not long after Claire began to think on her choices as regrets she noticed something new. As she sat in her regular seat in the café, the front corner between the counter and the window to avoid contact with others, Claire saw something. It was only out of the corner of her eye, but she thought she saw a flash of light. This would not have been so distracting on any other day, but today had been particularly cloudy. It was the kind of day Claire enjoyed, as it often matched her outlook. But there, just a few feet away there was a flash of light. Not quite like a beam of lightening but something. It was something white and radiant and beautiful, like a solitary Northern Light, in the middle of the cold Philadelphia streets.

As soon as she saw it Claire began to doubt herself. She knew that there was no way something like an Aurora Borealis could occur as a singular event, especially not in the middle of a Philadelphia street. She rationalized with herself. “There must have been a car driving by, a light reflected off of it and caused that flash. It was simply a reflection.” But it was not simple at all. Far from it. Little did Claire know that flash of light was one that would forever change her existence.