Chance

{ Through the fog of his breath, he spins his key chain clockwise like he always does to find the correct key to open his apartment door. There are two similar keys for different locks located right next to each other and after a two years, he never knew which one was which. Every night coming home, he would blindly choose one of them and try his luck. He could have easily separated them or put an identification marker on one, but he was comfortable with the idea that he would never know for sure which one to choose and that he would forever need to take a chance. Being as bitterly cold as it was tonight, he regretted slightly this silly commitment, but he figured the comfort he would feel as he entered his home would be that much more worth it.

Kicking his shoes off next to the door and sliding his jacket off and onto the back of the a chair in his kitchen, his body slowly adjusted to the change in temperature while his face emitted the slightest smirk. He proceeded to squeeze his wallet out of his front-right pocket and unclip the carabiner that allowed his keys to hang freely in his left-side pocket and plopped both on the top of his microwave. He made his way over to the stereo in the living room to put some on music to listen to while he cooked dinner. Wincing the Night Away by The Shins was already in the disc tray from the previous night and he was in a similar mood, so all he had to do was press play. In a very low tone, 'New Slang' began filling the apartment with sound, and feeling.

After scanning all the cabinets and rummaging through the fridge, he finally decided on his favorite dish, caramelized onions served over slices of slightly fried tofu and asparagus. Plucking the ingredients out of different levels of the fridge one by one and balancing everything in his arms, he heard a thump in the adjacent room and stood up straight with a start, sending an onion through the air and into the living room. A second later his roommate came trotting out of the other room, looked down at the onion for a second, and walked straight to the couch in the living room and curled up on the corner cushion. "Thanks for picking that onion up, I appreciate it. I thought you were out...what have you been up to all day?" - no response. "You know, sometimes I feel like I'm talking to the wall."

He turned the lower-left burner on high and let it heat up while he cut the onions into strips. "I hope these don't make you cry. I'm not sure why, but I think I've become so used to the fumes, they don't bother me anymore. I could hold my eye-lids wide open, jump into a pool of peeled onions and not a single tear would fall. I think maybe the tears are converted at a constant rate and transferred to my salivary glands and released that way". His roommate looked over at him for a second perhaps to show the was listening and shortly after turned back to his previous direction and placed his head in his arms. "I really wish the reverse was possible, I'm a little tired of constantly washing all of these sheets and pillow cases due to your night-time drooling problem."

He drizzled a pan with some olive oil, threw the onions in, and placed it over the burner. He fetched a spatula from the utensils drawer and used it to move the onions around as they browned. "So what's wrong, you haven't said a thing since I got home. You know, you can talk to me. I know I might not always have the right thing to say, but at least you can get some things off your chest." - no response "I tell you what, I'm going to guess what you're thinking, and by not responding, I'll assume that I'm right and continue".

The onions continued to caramelize and the sweet odor filled the air. "Wow, that smells amazing.... don't you think? I'm crying so hard, you can't even see it." ...."Ok, here goes. Feel free to jump in at any time. You're wondering how I come home happy every day. You think that you're the only one in the world who is constantly worrying about how you appear to other people, and that maybe..... just maybe you could have done something different to better represent yourself. You think that you're so bad at communicating, no one understands you, that there's no hope for improvement, and that you're better off just not trying at all."

Moving the onions over the a corner of a pan, he made room for the slices of asparagus and tofu. "I can tell you for a fact that you are not alone. It is constantly on my mind. You cannot let this bother you though. You have to come to terms with the communication gap that will always exist between people. What you mustn't be concerned with is how people perceive you, but instead your ability...... and yes everyone has this ability to improve your own image and the way you display yourself. Imagine fishing for example..... because I know you love fish. The hook is what makes you, you.... and the bait is your will to communicate. Improve the bait, and someone will bite. Sharpen the hook, and the odds you will connect skyrocket.

Using the spatula, he flips both the tofu and asparagus to let their reverse sides brown a bit. "What you also must realize is that chance is a huge part of life, it's something you can't help. Patience and persistence will be your greatest tools. And while you're waiting for someone to bite, you can find comfort in the waves and constant ripples in the water in which you are wading, for you are connected nonetheless." He fetches a plate from the left most cabinet and places it on the counter. After turning the burner off, he uses the spatula to scrape the contents of the pan onto his plate and places the empty pan in the sink. He pours himself a glass of red wine and brings his food into the living room and places it on the coffee table.

"I hope you ate already, I feel really bad eating in front of you like this.....even though I know you hate vegetables. I'm glad we had this talk, I feel a lot better." He used his right hand to eat and his left to rub his best friend's neck. "You understand me don't you boy?" He continued to enjoy his dinner with the soft tones of The Shins and the calming purrs of his cat. } - A short fiction