Excerpt: Thinking Outside the Box

Chapter 3

My hand is shaking as I pull try to pull another cigarette from the box. I know I shouldn’t. I know it will burn my precious air. But the shards of fear are slicing at my heart and my lungs feel as though they are full of lead. The box falls from my hand, the soil scrapes the cellophane eerily. I feel around in the dirt in front of me and sadly put the small box back in my coat pocket.
I wrap my arms around my legs and pull them to my chest. I concentrate on slowing my breathing. On controlling the fear. I speak slowly, soothingly, “It is going to be all right. You are going to get out of here. You have to remain calm. You have to think.”
I go back to searching my pockets. In the right front pocket of my jeans I find several coins. I pull them out and weigh them in my hand. Feel them with my fingers. Three quarters, a dime, a nickel and four pennies. Ninety-four cents. The change from the cigarettes and gum that I had purchased earlier. “Too bad you didn’t buy peanuts or chips instead of the gum.” The tendons in my cheeks are pulling my mouth into a smile again. I resist but the sad smile is determined. I replace the change and continue my search knowing all that it left is my wallet.
I pull it from the back pocket of my jeans. The leather is cold from the earth on one side and warm from my body on the other. The skin covered by the pocket feels the cold now more than the rest of my body. I remove my cell phone form my jacket. I squint from the sudden light and turn the small light toward the ground. I hold the wallet beneath the light with the other hand, unfolding it with my thumb. The tops of credit cards peak cheerfully from their narrow slots. I move the wallet at an angle and see that the cash that I had earlier was still carefully tucked in place. It is then that my eyes come to rest on the small slip of paper that has been added to the bills. I don’t remember it having been there before. Curious, I pull it out and drop the wallet to read the neat print:
According to my calculations you have 24 hours of air.
Enjoy them. They are more than you deserve.
- Sigmund & Frank
The paper drifts to the ground as my grave and hopes darken.