The Real Questions | Open
Peter was bored.
But more than bored, Peter was restless.
Restless was a dangerous thing for Peter to be. He knew he couldn’t get drunk, but he drank anyway. He drank so much. He was on his seventh bottle of vodka when he started to feel a little extra frustrated and maybe a little bit warm.
It really wasn’t fair, honestly, that he was stuck like this. He was doomed to forever be the same and wasn’t that just the worst? He wanted to break windows. He wanted to throw fireworks into buildings and watch everyone run out. He wanted to feel something besides the deep, aching sameness he’d felt for almost 400 years.
He walked down the street, making sure to step on every single crack in the sidewalk. Who cared about bad luck, right?
It was when he was hopping from one crack to another that he rammed into--well, whoever this was.
“If you could come back in your next life as whatever you wanted, what would it be?” he asked with a dopey grin on his face.
















