Elections in the Year 2029 :: Creative Writing Personal Narrative Papers

Elections in the Year 2029 It's not every day that I wake up in a different year from when I went to bed. I wholly expect it to happen on days like December 31st. So you can understand my shock when, instead of seeing May 9th 2002 on the calendar, I saw May 9th, 2029. Sometimes you can just tell it's going to be a bad day. In fact, something was telling me it was going to be a very bad day. As I rolled out of bed and landed with my feet squarely on the floor, I suddenly got the feeling that something wasn't quite right. A moment's thought made me realize that, in my three years of College, I've never before rolled out of bed and not landed on the mounds and piles of clutter—books, clothes, and musical instruments—which always surround my bed. I also realized that my entire room was clutter-free. I shrugged off this oddity; I had cleaned my room in the past, and there was a possibility, although remote, that I had cleaned it last night (whenever that was). My morning routine continued with the hunger pangs I usually feel just after waking up. I decided to dress and go to Farinon for a quick bite of food. Noticing that I was already dressed, I headed outside and down Hart Street towards Farinon. Something seemed out of place, almost surreal; I couldn't say what it was exactly. At this point my mind woke up and began to defend itself. "Tobin," it told me, "there's nothing wrong with the world. You probably just had too much to drink last night." I continued on my trek. The Farinon Food Court seemed normal to me. The food tasted awful, which was strangely reassuring. In fact, everything was reassuring. The texture of the carpet, the uncomfortable chairs, the wobbly tables, and surly yet charming staff seemed to give me a sense of comfort. I reminded myself that, while our eyes often deceive us, it is rare when all of our senses are fooled. My quiet calm was broken when I noticed, in the corner of my eye, a small flashing yellow light. I tried to turn to look at it, but it stayed in the corner of my eye.1 I thought to myself, "What's the meaning of this thing?" Suddenly, a voice whispered to me, "Your VAST is starting; would you like to attend?