CHAPTER 1: IAN

CHAPTER 1: IAN

Earth’s immediate changes were sweeping, romantic, and grandiose, but other than the reverse rotation the changes were mostly intangible and imperceptible to those we weren’t really looking, which is to say everyone sane. The most noticeable change to those of us who knew to look was that destiny suddenly existed. Not everybody was given destiny, of course, but certainly the most interesting people, some of the uninteresting, and absolutely everybody who was certain they had no destiny at all. And this is how Ian Flately, both interesting in personality and inconsequentially situated and by no means a fatalist, suddenly became somebody worth writing a book about.

Ian Flately worked for a company which sold novelty ties to retail shops. He was 25 years old. He lived in Los Angeles. He had sandy blonde hair which never cut quite evenly or combed entirely straight. He had pale green eyes which he never opened wide enough to look surprised, even when he was. His posture resembled something of an exhausted exclamation point or a startled question mark. He was, by most conventional means, attractive, but by no means in an interesting manner. He was a pescetarian who hated seafood but refused to become a full-fledged vegetarian on the off-chance he might learn to enjoy it after all. He had other qualities, too, but why ruin the surprise?

Directly after the Earth reversed its rotation, the world’s news outlets were in an uproar because Tom Cruise had done something interesting or distasteful or sexual, Ian could never be bothered to figure out which. No one seemed interested in discussing the Earth’s inexplicable change in rotation. Ian, however, was very interested, and he attempted several times to communicate so, to perhaps reach a deeper understanding as to the mysteries of the Universe. He attempted to mention it to his co-workers, but they all seemed too busy attempting to become the new office joker by impersonating the interesting/distasteful/sexual thing Tom Cruise did. Ian attempted to use it as an ice breaker to speak to an attractive woman in the elevator, but once the doors opened she couldn’t run away quickly enough. He even tried to discuss it on niche message boards on the furthest reaches of the internet, but he was too overcome by the gargantuan typos, overused emoticons, and disturbingly intriguing pornographic pop-up ads to actually achieve anything resembling intelligent conversation (he also had a sneaking suspicion he was the only person over the age of 13 on all of the internet). He finally did manage to have a deep and meaningful conversation, albeit one-sided, with his pet rat, Joe, who only really took interest in Ian when he offered him a strawberry yogurt treat. “Everyone always wants something,” Ian smiled as Joe gobbled up his treat. And then he continued talking about the subject at hand.

Such was Ian’s life, pre-destiny. But three days after the changes manifested themselves, Ian’s destiny began. He sat at his computer at work, surfing the web as his co-workers continued their Tom Cruise impressions around him, and as luck or fate (but really destiny) would have it, that’s where he found a Polaroid camera of surprising quality (like new!) for a surprisingly affordable price (like, but not exactly, free!) All he had to do was pick it up from its current owner and the fine piece of machinery was his. He had been meaning to get into photography. He needed a camera. He liked polaroids. And yet he remained still, as indecisive and unmotivated as ever, drowning in an ocean of ennui and refusing to grab onto the life vest thrown to him.

“Hey hey hey, chicken soup!” Alex from accounting shouted into Ian’s ears. Ian took quick note that the Tom Cruise incident must have had something to do with chicken soup and promptly left to pick up the camera, mostly because he wanted to get away from Alex and needed someplace to go. Undeterred by this negative review of his comedy routine, Alex searched for someone else he could amuse with his topical humor.

Ian’s acquisition of the Polaroid camera could not have been better timed (it was destiny, after all). Directly after he walked out of the previous owner’s house with his new toy in hand, the sky flashed red. Cars everywhere stopped in their tracks, afraid they had just run a red light. Pedestrians everywhere froze as well, because the sky just fucking flashed red. The sky then flashed green. Then red again. Then purple. Then blue. Then it flashed red and just stayed that color. The full moon appeared in the sky, and then above it, another moon. Earth was changing and now no one could ignore it. Ian smiled and took a picture of the brilliant new sky, and then of the faces of the people around him.

For the next nineteen months, Ian happily used his camera to document the happenings around him. Life, as it was, was boring. Any change was very much welcomed by Ian. Everything seemed fresh and new and every day was a new adventure. No one knew what to expect next. No one was prepared when the palm trees in Beverly Hills sprouted legs and terrorized the city, nor were they prepared when all the dogs and cats in the same area suddenly became insatiably vegetarian and ate the palm tree monsters. But Ian was always there with his camera, ready to take a picture and smile.

Not everyone took to the changes so well. The residents of Los Angeles were notorious, and in many cases rightfully so, to being accustomed to superficial consistencies: celebrities, coffee bars, and sushi to name a few. When the celebrities fled from the palm tree monsters and coffee became a depressant and sushi changed to a flavor Ian felt was finally palatable, many people had no idea how to react. The shallower the person, the more confusedly visceral the reaction. Alex from accounting was affected the worst. The changes made him so mad that he could only stomp his foot and squeal. Nobody was able to interpret these actions as anger. This frustrated Alex to such a deep and personal level he could only smile and skip away. He was new to dealing with emotions.

Ian scribbled a blurb in form of a poem on the back of every Polaroid he took. The poems were always awful. This made him happy. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

On the back of a picture of the red sky:

Roses are red

And the sky is so blue

Something about violets

Hey! Now the sky is red, too!

On the back of the creature that lived in Rodeo Drive Lagoon:

“Come ever closer, please”

Said the creature in the lagoon

“I promise I won’t bite

Or else my name ain’t Boon!”

(I think his name is Ted.)

Ian’s life was filled with adventure, great photographs, and bad poetry. He was happy. But his destiny was far from realized.