Turn the Page

Francesca trudged along the street. Michelle, her car, broke down once again. Alright, she ran out of gas. She's been running on empty for about a day and a half now. Wasn't that just the story of Francesca's life. She grumbled as she walked. She dug her hands deep into the front pockets of her hoodie. She considered the flimsy $10 bill in her pocket. That bill was the very last of her money. She wished that it would get the gas can and at least a gallon or two at the gas station she spotted about a mile back. Francesca was just so done with today. 

A few feet ahead she spotted a snowbank. Why did they call it a snowbank anyway? Was it because it was where snow was deposited by some passing snowplow? Did anyone ever withdraw from a snowbank? Did someplace in the world use snow as currency? If only it were here, in the middle of Wyoming. Upon closer inspection of the snowbank, there was something to withdraw. Francesca walked over to the object, it looked like a leather-bound book. She pulled it from the snowbank. It was a leather-bound book.

She turned the book over in her hands. The words "Turn The Page" were stamped into the front cover with silver lettering. The black brushed leather was otherwise unmarked and surprisingly warm for having been just stuck in a snowbank. Francesca thumbed through the pages quickly which appeared empty. This was a beautiful journal if it was one. She tucked the book under her arm and made sure to return to her path.

Curiosity got the better of her. She looked down the road toward the gas station and saw no vehicles coming in that direction. She looked back toward where she left Michelle on the side of the road. There were no cars that way either. Safe enough I guess to have a closer look. She flipped to a page about a third of the way through the book. She began to read as she walked. 

She read about herself, though having just stopped at the gas station she was currently walking toward. She shot up and frantically looked around. Somebody must be playing a joke on her. The area she was in had sight-lines that only terminated with elevation. She could see for miles in most directions, and there didn't seem to be any sign of civilization. This also disheartened her, as it meant the gas station was further away than she originally estimated. Her gaze returned to the book. 

In the book, she finished fueling up Michelle. After the nozzle clicked she entered the store as she wanted to grab a bottle of water. She paid with a debit card she did no longer possess and struck up a conversation with the attendant. He asked where she was headed. She said Billings, Mt. which was accurate. He told her that she had a bit further to go, but hoped she enjoyed the scenery on her drive. She affirmed that she was, and excited to arrive for the new job she had been offered. Francesca looked up again. 

This had to be a joke. She had been offered that job, but she turned it down. She turned it down to stay in Denver with Amanda, the former love of her life. A fat lot of good that did her. If she had this whole week to do it over again she would. Amanda had stolen everything in the past week. Emptied the bank account that Francesca just allowed her access to, stole most of the contents of her wallet, and disappeared along with everything in their shared apartment. The only thing left behind was a poorly scribbled "Dear Jane" letter reading simply I'm sorry. Luckily, she had her driver's license, and keys on her as she had just driven to the park that morning for a stroll. After 24 hours of trying to get things closed out in Denver, she just decided to return home to Billings. She started driving trying to will Michelle the 555 miles on the E symbol. She surprisingly made it into Wyoming. 

She had closed the book on her finger, the words on the front cover seemed to scream out to her. Turn the page, they told her. She did. 

All of a sudden, she was sitting in Michelle going about 80 miles per hour in the approximate same place she was just standing. She pulled over to the side of the road about where she had last pulled off. The book was in the passenger seat. She was wearing slacks and a nice blouse now instead of the ratty hoodie and jeans she'd slept on the floor of an empty apartment in the night before. She got out of the car and looked around. It was the same sunny day, the same stretch of highway, the same expanse of nothingness that was Wyoming. The memories of the past week came back to her slightly different. 

This past week, she received the job offer and accepted. She knew that it would be a hard sell with Amanda, but she was going to try. They had a date the next day where they had a very long and difficult conversation. Francesca asked Amanda to move back to Billings with her. Amanda refused as she would be leaving behind all of her friends, her job, and a life that she had built there in Denver. Francesca told her that she couldn't continue in the job that she was in. She wanted so much to be back home with her family. Amanda broke things off with Francesca there in the restaurant. Amanda revealed she had been cheating and was going to leave anyway. The next day, Francesca was there when Amanda moved her things out. Francesca sold what little she had, quit her job, packed up a few of her belongings and headed off to Billings. 

Francesca marveled at how one small choice for herself made all the difference. Instead of turning down a job that she wanted just to make her deadbeat girlfriend happy, she went from empty to full of excitement for the future. She had turned the page on her life, in both versions of the past week. One by force, and the other on her terms.