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    Glimpse: Volume One: Glimpse, #1
    Glimpse: Volume One: Glimpse, #1
    Glimpse: Volume One: Glimpse, #1
    Ebook63 pages46 minutes

    Glimpse: Volume One: Glimpse, #1

    By Justin Mermelstein

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    About this ebook

    Chester Dyllis is a twenty-something-year-old face in the crowd. His perspective on life, even from a very young age, has always been even-keeled and grounded in reality. His dreams and passions take a backseat to the pressures of daily responsibility. 

    But his life is turned on its side when he receives news that his mother has died unexpectedly. This sparks the awakening of a dormant ability, one that brings enlightenment to a brand new world, where the rules of time are drastically changed and the past and present are no longer distinguishable.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJustin Mermelstein
    Release dateFeb 9, 2013
    ISBN9781301581504
    Glimpse: Volume One: Glimpse, #1

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      Book preview

      Glimpse - Justin Mermelstein

      Other Works:

      Glimpse: Volume Two

      A Week and Some Change

      The Spirit of Magic

      Nowhere in Particular

      The Committed

      A Time to Commune

      Copyright © 2012, 2019 Glimpse | Justin Mermelstein

      All rights reserved.

      Written and illustrated by Justin Mermelstein

      Edited by Marissa van Uden

      This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

      If you’ve stumbled across this book without

      purchasing it and you like what you’ve read,

      please support the arts and purchase a copy.

      Any resemblance to anything real is purely coincidental.

      for Belle Belle

      Clocks slay time . . . time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.

      -William Faulkner

      The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.

      -Albert Einstein

      ONE

      Chester stared at the Pentagon through the train window. It wasn’t much different than looking at it on television. He could not help but wonder if the side he was studying was the same side the plane had crashed into. His vantage point had him gazing across a highway that looked very similar to the one in the news footage that had aired repeatedly. All five sides were similar so it was hard to tell which one the plane had hit. He didn’t have the energy to find out.

      He asked himself if he should feel guilty about trying to recreate the day in his mind while sitting there more than a decade later. That day was all he was able to associate with the Pentagon, having never been in the nation’s capital before. He tried to imagine the chaos on the plane. Due to an overbearing fear of flying, he’d never been on one and so he had a hard time relating. And his terror had predated September 11th.

      It was a beautiful but cold day. Colder than he preferred. Barely above freezing, at most. Returning to the East Coast reminded him of how much he hated winter.

      The train was freezing at night. Because the passengers had to remain in close proximity for such long periods of time, the rail stewards were forced to drop the temperature in order to stave off germs and prevent the general discomfort of smelling anyone within nose-shot.

      Chester shivered as the early morning air whooshed through the open doors between cars. Smokers dragged on their cigarettes and fidgety people stretched their legs and flapped their lips, releasing steamy breath. They’d only have a ten-minute break. The train wouldn’t wait any longer. In the past, he’d watched conductors leave stragglers behind.

      The doors closed, and the train slowly departed the station. The Pentagon soon faded into the distance, waiting to be looked upon and judged in the same vein by someone else.

      Under normal circumstances, the long-term passengers would ride in the back end of the train. This time, however, the train wasn’t as full, so Chester was able to park himself closer to the food cart, near the front.

      The seat adjacent to his was finally empty. A senior citizen who had snored louder than anyone Chester had ever met had occupied it for the eight hours previous. At the prior stop, she’d taken her three overstuffed suitcases and her sleep apnea and headed off the train for good. He couldn’t have been any more relieved, as she’d been blocking his way and he’d had to urinate for hours.

      He shifted his legs uncomfortably, stirring the mountain of debris at his feet. Empty beer and soda cans, food wrappers, and cardboard coffee cups littered his area. He closed the tray in front of him and made a beeline for the

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