Missing in Action

Once more, a girl was ready to take her chances, riding her horse into a battle of uncertainty. What were the odds of her Thursday afternoon being spoiled for the third time in a row? After enduring eight agonizing hours of meetings, calls and other bushwah, not even destiny was to withstand the unyielding force of her desires. On this day, victory would be hers to claim.

It was right after Juliet entered the place that she was reassured of her good fortune, the moment her senses were met with the presence of a sweet, buttery aroma emanating from the still-hot oven behind the counter. Never had she seen them bake up a new loaf of banana bread that late in the day. But there it was — sliced up and ready to be served. A sight that prompted her not only to order one, but a staggering three whole pieces of the treat. In her defense, she had to compensate for the caloric deficit she had accumulated throughout her previous visits. Moreover, she didn’t have her breakfast porridge that morning — and nothing but a small salad for lunch. “Can’t have an empty stomach at those temperatures!” she explained to the barista, who responded with an understanding nod and proceeded to prepare her order.

With a tray full of provisions and a heart full of hope, Juliet marched on the holy site. It must have been by virtue of her unbending faith, that on her arrival, the place was wondrously purged of all evil. It was without doubt that the stars had aligned for her, and thus, no tear was to be shed that day. After taking her rightful place on the throne, sufficiently nourished from feasting on her long-awaited plate of sinful pleasure, it was time to convert all those carbs into actions, gracing the pages of her notebook with the glorious crumbs of her triumphant conquest.

But the moment her pen touched the paper, her spark of motivation was smothered by a sense of void, her mind as blank as the page in front of her. It was as if something were missing — or rather some-one. A someone to kindle her temper. A someone to put her life into disarray. Was her unceasing pursuit of comfort a fruitless path from the start? Was it the lack thereof that she truly aspired — it being the seed to her thoughts and emotions — a key to unlock whatever wisdom slumbered in the depths of her subconscious? Questions upon questions that kept running through her mind, but just like a certain someone, no answer was to be found that day.