LogFAQs > #900703335

These figures... dancing atop the heads of every single passerby. Some are already at zero. Some are a few hundred, some are a few thousand... Some people's counters are set to 999, and don't move. I'm one of those odd, possibly lucky few. My number hasn't moved since I first took note of it. I've been studying the numbers for only about an hour now, unsure of the ultimatum they must surely represent. Enter Dave. For the last hour, Dave's countdown has been in the single digits. It's finally on one, and if my count is right, in another few moments it'll reach zero.

Dave gets into his car, parked between two others. There goes my opportunity. His counter crawls to zero just as he lets off the gas, bumping into the car ahead of him. A woman emerges, the rim of her sunhat barely fitting through the door frame of her own vehicle. Her long, brunette hair twirls synchronically with the breeze. The man steps out to greet her, and she removes her comically large sunglasses. The two share a laugh at his timely mishap, and it finally dawns on me what the counter must mean. It counts down to the time you meet the person you love.

I look around, at the numbers over the heads of others that just aren't counting down to anything at all... and then, at my own number... and I know I belong on CE.