Sunday, Dec 22, 2021
I borrowed Sara’s key to our apartment – she wasn’t happy – and sprinted home. I couldn’t find the spare keys anywhere and when I finally gave up looking for them, our apartment looked like it had been burglarised. The sofa cushions were either on the floor or upside down (or both), kitchen drawers were open, the framed poster of Back to the Future hung crooked.
I knew I couldn’t blame it on Einstein, not all of it anyway. But I’d have to cross the bridge called Sara when she saw the mess. It occurred to me that I must’ve left the keys in my room at Mom and Dad’s so I rushed downstairs and instead of walking back to Atlas to take the Beetle, I got on my Crescent, and started pedaling as hard as I could.
As always, the wind was against me. It was raining, too.
But the bike ride also gave me twenty minutes to clear my head, calm down, and come up with new plans. I was afraid that I had made a lot of people angry, and just as in Ghostbusters II, the anger was poisoning everything.

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