Fleeting Moments - A Short Story

A shallow hallway stretches on for an eternity, illuminated by a single white light, draped over a single man.  He’s drowning in focus - his rhythmic, heavy breathing reverbs like a breeze before him.  It whispers and flows about, controlled and intentional.  This is clearly not of exhaustion, rather, anticipation.  His eyes are shut, locked by the anxiety trapped deep within him.  It’s dark, calm, and quiet, yet he battles some invisible, unrelenting chaos trying to pry it’s way in.  

“What is purpose?” he hums in his mind. 

Beads of sweat paint his body, cooling the intensity pouring through him.  A light steam glides from him to the ceiling, dissipating before it can quite reach.  He clenches his fist - his skin tight and stretching around his knuckles.  Veins trace his forearms like a valley, crossing and winding, allowing a concentrated dose of adrenaline to work it’s way through him. 

“It’s not a thing.  It’s...a feeling, isn’t it?”

His body begins to twitch, the adrenaline beginning to overflow.  He attempts to control it, guiding it towards his goal.  Not even a chemical reaction running throughout his body is able to deter him.  A rooted, purposeful breath calms the tremors. 

“It’s those little butterflies that flutter about in your belly.  That feeling of being dropped, but trusting you’ll be caught.  There’s not an ounce of doubt within you.  You revel the freefall.”

He begins to lightly bounce on the balls of his feet, shifting his weight back and forth.  He can no longer contain it, allowing his tension to ease just enough to tingle the surface of his skin.  He continues to shift, in cadence with his breath.  The calm rustling of his carbon-fiber armor echoes down the hallway, like a soft wave wading against the sand on a summer night.  His mind is elsewhere, but he couldn’t be more present.   

  “It envelops you - smothers you like a hug from a giant.  Fear becomes unimaginable.  Worry becomes ridiculous.  Hesitation is like a distant memory - one you know well, but have let go of long ago.  When you’re ready for it, you’ll embrace it.  And why shouldn’t you?  Every moment in your life has you brought here.”

A raucous hum creeps into the hallway.  The steady breaths begin to fall mute against it.  It’s constant.  It’s unnerving.  It’s pure and utter...excitement.   

“Every moment has brought you here and every moment after will bring you right back.  Right here, to this very spot.  Nothing in this universe can stop you.  In fact, it wants you here.  It’s the thing that pushes you off the edge.  If you’re not ready, you’ll condemn it.  But it knows better than you, and in time, you’ll thank it.  Fighting against it is a zero sum game and when you realize it’s finally time to taste victory - you’ll be the first at the table.”

A distant light grows at the end of the hallway.  The hum builds to an uncontrolled rumble.  Spikes and peaks of screams burst throughout.  To anyone else, it’s daunting.  It carries the horrible anxiety that comes with perfection.  Anyone else would freeze, as it ties and drags them under until their only hope for escape is to turn their back and run.  But he faces it - his eyes still locked shut.  A smirk breaks across his face. 

He steps forward. 

“It’s absolute euphoria.  It’s that first taste of ice cream.  It’s watching your child take their first steps.  It’s the first time you’re ever told ‘you’re good at this’.  It’s those little fleeting moments we chase and chase.  Until we finally reach it, and now...those fleeting moments last lifetimes.”

The sporadic roar begins to become clearer and clearer.  Individual voices can be identified until it's evident - these are not roars.  These are cheers.  

His breathing intensifies, but remains controlled.  His pace quickens to a light jog.  

“So, if I had to define it... purpose is…”

The increased light wraps around and contorts the solemn hallway until it morphs into a tunnel.  It grows and grows until blinding shades of green can be spotted beyond the entrance.  He swings a helmet onto his head, straps himself in.  The roaring becomes louder and louder, until it’s completely deafening.  

He steps through the entrance as his eyes open.  

“Purpose is…”

An arena stretches before him - fans in the stadium erupting as he exits the tunnel.  He screams inaudible words of triumph and they respond, completely inebriated by his presence.  They love him.  And he loves them.   

“Well...you’ll just know.”