Tomorrow...

Genre: Fiction
Inspiration: Enlightenment

Gordon had been waiting for "tomorrow" for the better part of seven months now. Not tomorrow, as in the day after today, but "tomorrow"; a concept, or premise that was meant to be the day after "today" but never seemed to materialize. The "tomorrow" Gordon waited for promised more than "today" (which is yesterday's tomorrow), ever managed to deliver.

The tomorrow he waited for was promised seven months ago by a powerful and odorous Psychic; Madam Consuela. Consuela - in addition to a glandular problem which made her smell like a meat locker 4 days after a summer power outage -had powers of insight beyond regular comprehension. She had told Gordon that "tomorrow" would be the day that everything became clear to him - murky rivers of thought would be as clear as mountain springs, gloomy skies of reflection would be upper-atmospheric in their crispness, and cataract obscured logical conflict would be laser corrected to 20/20 hawk-eyedness. Aside from the astute and richly imaged metaphorical prophesy, Gordon's epiphany came from never having realized that he was quite that stupid. He'd only gone to see Madam Consuela because his friend Arnold had told him that her stench exceeded that of any creature (alive, or dead and bloated on steaming asphalt). Experience the stench he did, but he never expected to be enlightened... furthermore, to find that all of this time he'd been crippled by a lack of clarity was icing on the cake.

So Gordon had been waiting with baited breath. Since seeing Consuela he had actually become quite frustrated with the degree of his stupidity and was eager to shake it. Seven months later; today, the day on which he'd payed the very last installment on the prophecy which by sheer coincidence had cost exactly the amount of his life-savings, he was certain that tomorrow was the "tomorrow" he was waiting for.