Mershad began walking with his eyes down, going to classes very early, and staying a few minutes afterwards to let the room empty out. He did not linger anywhere in public longer than he had to. He found himself spending most of his time either at the campus mosque, within the solemn refuge of his dorm room, or at the job that he held in the student cafeteria, washing dishes and doing some after hours custodial work.
He could not focus on his studies, his mind racing with a multitude of thoughts. His prayers had suffered in earnestness, as he had trouble reconciling how God could allow the traumatic, devastating attacks to fall so mercilessly upon the millions of innocents trapped within Iraq.
Sapped in mind, sapped in body, and sapped in spirit, Mershad had quickly lost the passionate and curious approach that he had always taken to life. His only relief was that his parents were safe, though their agonies were great as they had not been able to contact any of their relatives by phone or other means. Communications had been among the very first things taken out by the attacking coalition forces.
With the fate of the majority of his family shrouded in the ominous unknown, he and his parents had been given an arduous and sorrowful path to endure.
A few times, he had allowed himself to consider just quitting the university and moving back home. It seemed logical at times to weather the storm by just staying out of it. Each time, he had checked himself from giving in to the tempting urge. He knew that he had to continue forward and live his life, or the forces of ignorance would truly prevail.
In some ways, he found that his will to continue was in itself a shouted defiance at the organization and attitude of the world at large. While it gave him scant relief, it did harden his resolve just enough to keep the world from becoming overwhelming.
ERIN
The alarm clock continued to buzz annoyingly, while still failing to arouse Erin from the slumber that she had become so well accustomed to in recent years.
Over the years, Erin had developed a personal art form whenever it came to matters of comfort and ease. At the present moment, she had attained a virtual mastery of that art.
A few classes at the local community college and a part time job were now her only true responsibilities. Through the use of a shrewd form of diplomatic maneuvering, which required congeniality at times, and a display of hot temper at others, she had managed to achieve a state of existence where she received little resistance from family or friends for her choice of lifestyle.
Her routine held a few principal elements.
After the obligatory class or two, she headed to her restaurant job that lasted well into the evening. Following her shift, she patronized one of the local nightclubs or coffee shops.
Her network of haunts was largely nocturnal, such that she usually trudged back home just a few short hours before dawn.
Rolling over in bed, Erin reached across and smacked the alarm clock. She succeeded in silencing the irritating tone, her blow coming close to crippling the clock itself. Her mind caught somewhere in the nebulous area between the conscious and the subconscious, her thoughts slowly started to orient upon the new day.
The only class that had been scheduled for the day had already ended an hour ago. There was no test or papers due, and she had gotten home very late the previous evening, so she felt little guilt at having set the day’s alarm well past the end of her scheduled class.
There was no work shift to worry about either, as it was her cherished day off from the drudgery of restaurant work.
She was aware that her friends Uli and Razor were going to have a little gathering later that evening at their apartment. Her closest friend, Lynn, had informed her of the fact the previous day.
There was still plenty of time left to go online and piddle around with a few friends within her electronic world, perhaps enjoy a new movie through the video on demand service, or watch some satellite television.
She knew that she possessed a luxurious buffer of time before she had to leave for Uli’s apartment. With a satisfied purr, she rolled back over on the bed and let the subconscious win out for a little while longer.
LOGAN
Logan’s ample black locks were tossed randomly about in the gusts of unseasonably chilly winds that swept down upon him as he continued walking down the street.
The night would fall soon enough, and for most persons that would be a signal for rest or for recreation.
For Logan, day, night, and hour were of little overall significance.
In fact, he had already felt a small pang of anxiety at having taken the long, late-afternoon walk through the old neighborhood by the university campus.
His early morning to late afternoon period had been entirely devoured by programming endeavors, as he worked feverishly on his latest digital magic. Piling up caffeinated beverages and hours alike, Logan finally found himself at the edge of exhaustion. His eyes were about to cross from constantly being chained to his monitors, poring over every element of code and pixel.
The three separate projects that he was currently laboring on were still not remotely close to the finish line. A consummate perfectionist, Logan had actually raised the ire of some clients by incurring a few short delays to bring projects in at a level that exceeded their original requests.
More often than not, though, he had endured a litany of revisions. Some clients requested things to be taken out that they themselves had demanded in the beginning. Others added things that they had at first declared that they absolutely did not want.
There were many moments where he just needed to walk away from it all, and this late afternoon jaunt was one such time.
His stomach needing some sustenance, he had first gone to the little Chinese restaurant perched on the edge of the university campus. He had always admired the sheer drive of the restaurant’s owner, who labored with a kindred orientation upon his craft of Chinese cuisine and restaurant management.
After downing a quart-sized plate of pork-fried rice and a ginger ale, Logan had decided to extend his break and go for a walk on the outskirts of the campus.
The campus itself, on which he had attended four semesters of classes before transferring to another college to finish his degree, was just across the road.
The street that bordered the western edge of the campus, near the block that held the Chinese restaurant, led straight downtown.
There was often an eclectic mix of individuals wandering about the collection of unique little shops adjacent to the campus area.
It was the sort of environment where nobody really stood out, where one could decide to sink into the background or shout out their presence proudly on a street corner. Logan was far more inclined towards the former, though he was sometimes amused when he witnessed the latter.
Glancing up the street, he could see a few garishly-dressed young individuals heading into a specialty bookstore. Just passing them, a scruffy man in a long overcoat was walking down his side of the street.
He was a tall man, with a mop of lengthy, tangled hair, and a long, unkempt beard, both whitened with advanced age. Logan surmised that he was one of the many homeless individuals that often lingered in the area.
While Logan did not have a lot of money on him, he opted to browse in a few of the music shops and art galleries.
Briskly, Logan walked up the street, passing a popular eatery that was open all hours and served as a hangout for many of the university students. Already, it held a substantial crowd inside.
Looking ahead, Logan saw that his path was about to directly cross with the homeless individual.