Avishka sat on a bench in the middle of Central Park. It was a balmy evening, on a summer's evening in New York City, and around her, bodies in summer clothes littered the grass, taking in the warmth. In the distance a steady stream of balls from an itinerant juggler punctuated the air.
But Avishka saw none of it. Within her was an overpowering, uncontrollable anger, one that was so consuming that seemed to white out everything around her. Injustice. That was the thought that came back again and again. The feeling that rankled the most. It wasn't supposed to be this way. In school she had excelled. At home, everyone had said that if you worked hard, you would rise.
And now James had been promoted above her. James, of scrawny frame and unwholesome character, had gone ahead, while she had not. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was the brainy one. Take a meaningful problem of any complexity and Avishka knew she could run circles around James. But somehow... somehow everyone spoke of James and not of her.
To be fair, she knew now, subconsciously, in retrospect, that this had been coming. Inner feelings of frustration on those past occasions when the boss had called James in to discussions more often than her. When her response to the situation - working harder - didn't change people's perceptions, but only left her feeling continually worse. It had started there and continued. Gradually, she had spent more and more time at work, to prove to the others that she was the better of the two. Other activities had faded. She no longer played squash any more. She hadn't spoken to her sister in about 3 months.
One repeating, hammering thought kept coming back - 'What now?' - over and over again. What now? The job was okay, and the pay was good. So was it going to be... back to work on Monday, and pick off where you left off?
There was a pond next to the bench. Suddenly Avishka was seized with an overwhelming desire to pick up her laptop, throw it into the pond, as hard and far as she could manage, then shout out loud, jump into the water herself, and run away and leave it all behind. The mere thought of it filled her with an inexplicable joy.
For many long minutes, she gazed at the pond. And then took one final breath, picked up her backpack, and walked back home.