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Ever wish you were given a way out of your dreary existence? Juliet was given her chance from a most unlikely source.

 

 

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Juliet sat down in her car just as smoke began coming from her house’s windows. She slipped on her sunglasses and twisted the car’s ignition switch.

                       *

Nearly ninety minutes earlier, Juliet had sat at her computer and recalled yesterday’s astrological forecast. It advised her: Despite stressful family turmoil, an auspicious resolution lies on the horizon. Doesn’t seem possible, she thought while clicking her favorite site. That bold, four-word error message flashed up.

            Juliet stared; she brooded in utter incredulity over the concise but wholly obscure message Bad Request [Invalid URL]. She clicked Daily Horoscope again from her favorite list. The same message appeared. Juliet treasured that site; she shared her thoughts, dreams and heartaches on the blog to relish her lone, despondent reprieve. Sliding the cursor to the search box, she clicked and typed: Daily Horoscope. She gingerly pressed Enter. Instantly, the internet responded with fifty-nine thousand, two hundred, seventy-three websites with the initial twenty sites scrolling down. A single horoscope website in an astronomical universe of websites�"a proverbial needle in a haystack, she mulled and looked deep into the screen. But I have to try anyway.

            Several minutes and many web pages elapsed; Juliet thought of surrendering hope. The printing blurred. She resisted recalling this morning’s tribulations, but her mind wandered to Mike rushing to leave early�"a recent uncharacteristic trend in attitude and habit. That had occurred one hundred eighty minutes ago.  

“Gotta run, things to do,” he said gleefully and gave Juliet a peck on the forehead. She forced a grim smile; suddenly, considering the circumstances Juliet blanched; she stood and trotted the six steps to the door.

“Have a great day�"call me.” Juliet shouted in his wake; she waved at his back and watched him drive off. She pondered until one hundred-fifty minutes ago when her two girls came out to the dining room where she sat.

“Mother, you look like crap.” Jill, her twelve year old, stated. “Oh, by the way, I’m going to a party with Josh this Friday night.”

Juliet fingered her hair over her eye. “I think you’re too young for a girl-boy party�"tell him no.” She brightened. “You could invite him here; that would be fun.”

“Oh, what crap that would be.” Jill said, raising her voice. “Everyone is going to this party before school lets out. I’ll ask Dad�"he’ll let me go.”

“Dad’s not here now, and I’m not everyone’s mother. Here or nothing,” Juliet said as sternly a she could with a fingertip tap on the table.

“Go to hell!” Jill yelled. She shoved a chair and it crashed to the floor.

Ten year-old Jennifer shouted into the mix, “As a mother you suck.  Suck for restricting us from all the fun stuff everyone else is doing.” Juliet didn’t back down, but she sobbed silently as they left.

                       *         

After staring into a cooling cup of coffee for an hour to disembark at that irrevocable instant ninety minutes ago, Juliet ventured to open her beloved horoscope only to receive that short, irritating message. She then reviewed several pages of horoscope sites hoping to recognize her favorite until sixty minutes ago.

The cell rang. It was Mike.

“Hi baby girl. What’cha doing?”

“I’m online looking for a horoscope and�"”

“Don’t you have one tagged?” He said, sounding annoyed. “You tell me everyday how you read it and then recite all that astrological nonsense.”

“Something happened to it,” Juliet explained. “The computer gave me an error message and�"”

“Oh crap, does the computer have a virus from that stupid horoscope site now?”

“No, no,” Juliet said, breathlessly. “It couldn’t find my favorite site. It was odd because I’ve been�"”

“Those horoscopes are idiotically stupid anyway. They’re so vague and general they apply to anybody, mean nothing and ignorant people believe them wholeheartedly.” 

She stared at the site list on the screen; she dabbed her eye.

“Baby�"Juliet, you there?”

            “Ah�"yes. Just thinking, sorry,” she said, looking outside beyond her manicured lawn. “I, I’ll find another site�"I guess.”

“Don’t pay any credence to that hokey stuff,” Mike said. “You’re better off without it.”

“Maybe�"you’re better off missing Jill’s outburst.”

“Really? What happened?” He asked, sounding distant.

“She told me she was going to a party with a boy.”

“So what’s the problem?” Mike asked, sounding impatient in the busy office.

“I told her she couldn’t,” Juliet said; she saw her reflection and tugged at a tuft of hair over her eye.

“Why not?”

“Mike, she’s only twelve.”

“Ah�"I don’t see any problem with her going.”

“But Mike�"” Juliet raised her voice.

“What Juliet?” Deafening quiet. “Oh, the reason I called, I’m working late on that project again�"won’t be home for dinner.”

“Is it with Pat�"again?” She imagined faintly hearing a woman’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s with Pat�"again.” His voice faded away.

“Well, I’ll keep dinner warm for you. When do you think you’ll be home?”

“Oh, ah.” Some papers rustled. “I’m not sure. It’ll be really late, so don’t keep dinner warm. Don’t wait up baby, gotta go. Bye, kiss, kiss.”

“Bye,” she heard the click. “Love you.”

Forty-five minutes ago, Juliet snapped the cell closed and let it fall to the desktop�"bump, thump. Her drifting gaze found the imposing family portrait staring back from the living room wall. Their best faces: Mike, Jill and Jennifer, and she standing in the back with a hand on Mike’s shoulder placed there at the photographer’s insistence. A liquid glint impearled in her mind and her eyes. She knuckled the see-water. With a long-nailed index finger, she typed slowly: Juliet’s dearly vital and necessary for survival horoscope.

Maybe that’ll at least sort a few thousand off the list�"probably won’t get any hits on that at all, she mused. She clicked Search. The computer stopped responding; it froze and dimmed with no hourglass or time-elapsed tape. Juliet touched the mouse and abruptly the internet released another list�"of one.

Thirty minutes ago, Juliet scanned the single site’s truncated description: A Loving Liaison Horoscope Expediting Remedies: A new you is on the horizon�"Juliet’s dearly vital�"we map you a new life. She clicked; it sprung open. It was a rather non-descript site, but it addressed her: Juliet, we guide you out of your rut, purge the venom from your life, and start you down a course of revitalization. She stared; the site knows my name.

The site asked for usual: Name, age, birthday, location, marital status, children and so on, but then it requested candid emotions to specific relationship and family situations�"three pages worth. Juliet balked at first, suspecting a scam but the questionnaire didn’t ask for bank accounts, passwords or such; however, that one last, odd question glared: Where is your husband now? After finishing the questions, she ventured on with Continue. The computer processed until twelve minutes ago when the page flashed: Congratulations! You won our special offer! Juliet’s heart sank; she knew it was a scam. The site asked: Juliet, can we map you a new life? Her hand poised over the mouse expecting the inevitable sales pitch; her finger fell on the button anyway. It clicked YES.

Juliet watched, eight minutes ago, as the printer fired off and spit out a sheet. It was a list of driving directions: Leave immediately: back out of your driveway, go west, drive to the second intersection, turn right, go one mile take a left, and so on. Juliet quizzically studied the directions questioning where it led. How could it do this? The screen flashed; another question box appeared: Do you want to cover your tracks? Juliet didn’t think; her finger plummeted, clicking YES.

She gripped the desktop’s edge five minutes ago as the screen faded to gray. The hard drive spun up�"faster and faster�"the screen melted�"the computer began to smoke. Juliet’s eyes widened�"she stood in panic. Her chair smashed to the floor. She recalled the dining room chair�"call 9-1-1?�"she remembered Mike’s call�"she recollected the girls’ rejoinder. Juliet calmed and contemplated, yeah, cover my tracks. Smolders erupted from the computer three minutes ago as she strolled to the living room trailing fingers of gray smoke reeking of burnt plastic.

Juliet emptied her purse’s contents onto the ottoman: Her wallet, mascara, lip gloss, and keys tumbled out next to the freshly printed sheet. Two minutes ago, she considered her personal belongings and leaving her purse behind, but she held it like armor�"a shield. She considered the need for the ready cash, but as instructed, she had no need for identity, credit cards or license. One minute ago, Juliet strolled out of the house.

                       *

After seeing that first smoke, Juliet starts following the directions. Driving away, she doesn’t check her mirror; she doesn’t worry over what she left behind or what lies on that nearby horizon.

Reviews

[wondering]

liked the story and am sure we can all relate to this. Having a bad day or just reached the end of the rope. Good content and able to foll. Thnaks