Some days you just can’t seem to make up your mind about anything. Where to go, what to have for lunch, who to see, what to do. Today was turning out to be this sort of day. At least, it was for Aaron Newbaker. Although, I couldn’t say that any day wasn’t this sort of day really. Not for Aaron. In fact, you might say (if you were to say anything on the subject) that Aaron was just that sort of boy. The sort of boy who could never make up his mind.
And so it was in the moment that Aaron stepped forward into the bright sunny day, out of the door of his tiny little house, into the tiny little street, of the tiny little city of Kingsville. His mother was short on flour and Aaron was to fetch it if he wished to have any bread for supper. He took one single step into the bright, cobbled street and stopped.
“To the left of me,” Aaron thought, “is the Kingsville fountain. Beyond that is the market, where they will doubtlessly have flour. But fountains are so very much like wells and boys do so often fall into wells.To the right of me, is Miss Scottsdale’s shop. She may have some flour. But I would have to pass through the valley to get there. Valleys can be filled with so many rabbit holes. That seems such an awful, great risk. I might twist my ankle in one, or worse, I might fall inside.” Aaron had heard of a girl who’d fallen into a rabbit hole once, she had never been the same afterward.
So Aaron stood arguing with himself, as the clock tower struck the hour, as old man Peterson shuffled past towards the market, as the children ran by towards the park, and as old man Peterson shuffled past once more, going the opposite way. He was still standing there as a great, rickety cart came barreling down the road towards him. The horses whinnied and the driver shouted, none of which was heard by Aaron Newbaker, who was quite distracted by himself. He remained so distracted until a sudden pain erupted in his side and his mind went blank as he fell to the cobblestones.