The Writer

By Zoe Moga, TIWP Student

For a long time I wondered where I would end up. I could be considered successful, with a job I was happy with and a seemingly simple and easy life. My routines were constant. Wake up, get ready, go to work, go home. My days were exhausting, the power hungry, over achieving part of me always thirsting to work harder. To be better. I have my fair share of good friends, I tend to find time to see them on the weekends and an occasional Friday night but I tend to be too tired for something like that. I spend sleepless nights writing and reading, in a blissful state of mind, hoping that one day someone would read what I have to say. But for now, it is a hobby, and it won’t be anymore. Even though I stuck to my plans and routines, I was still dissatisfied with my life, leaving me wondering where I would eventually end up. In college I had a boyfriend or two but nothing serious, nothing I would put my whole future career on hold for. I guess I still have that mindset. My mother wanting more grandchildren constantly tries to set me up with the silly, little sons of her tennis friends but I rarely accept an offer for a dinner. They are a simple distraction. Yet, I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. Growing up in a large family, I can’t imagine being by myself. I won’t settle though, no matter what, I won’t settle. 

My eyes flicker open to the soft alarm playing near my bed. I stretch on my side and pull my covers above my ears trying to get just a little more sleep. However, that is never an option. I slowly get through the early morning. Getting changed, grabbing my bags and eating a quick breakfast of a banana and toast. As I walk out the door, I grab my small suitcase and my traveling backpack. 1 week till Christmas, 2 days till the party and 3 hours till I go home. I slip into the taxi taking me to the train station. London is eerily quiet. During the holidays, the city is usually bustling. Friends and family reuniting and shopping for gifts. Workers trying to finish everything before Christmas eve. But right now, it’s quiet. And cold. The wind kisses my cheeks as I get out of the cab. I hurry into the station and check my watch. Right on time. After a quick coffee I board the train. My backpack on the seat next to me and my suitcase in the overhead. The English countryside passes by me fast and soon enough I’m back home. 

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