Definitive Election Prediction

We anxiously go about our day on Tuesday. Some of us brave the chilly air outside libraries and school gyms, while others find small solace in having already done their part early. People stream out of work, or school, or the gym, or the store, just as the sun is sitting low in the sky.

We have a dinner that feels like a last supper of sorts, a last supper before the next chapter of history. The conversation shifts from the minutiae of the day, to the weight of the moment, to silence. We speak in unserious ways about hypothetical moves to other countries, or seriously about feelings of immense relief. The television comes on.

Those who know peace go to bed. Those who can’t resist stay awake. We still don’t know the results, and don’t know when we will know.

There’s an unexpected development that we’re not sure what to do with. We return to work, or school, or the gym, or the store. We trade glances with other people in our same boat, floating in the same ocean, all waiting for a conclusion, one that can finally allow us to move on.