The exercise:
Write about: the impostor.
Spent the day with Max, as Kat wasn't feeling up to taking him to music class this morning and she had a counselling client after lunch. Normally he spends Wednesday afternoons with Kat's parents but her dad was away at a conference and her mom was sick.
Class was fun. Took him to the park after lunch, which was both fun and surprising. Well, only surprising because it hadn't occurred to me how much more he'd be able to do compared to when we'd last been there together in the fall.
It's amazing what a little more height and a lot more coordination can lead to.
Mine:
They can't know I'm not one of them. This would all end in a heartbeat if they realized I don't belong here. Just act natural. God, what horrible advice that is. Like I have any idea what natural is supposed to be to these people.
And yet, here I am, telling myself to act natural.
"Owen?"
"Yes?" No hesitation. That's good. It's almost as though that's always been my name.
"Come this way please."
Oh no... they're on to me. Where's the nearest exit? Oh good, there are only fifty people between me and the doors. That would end well.
"Do you mind if I visit the washroom first?" I ask, knowing that I'm grasping at straws.
"This will only take a minute, sir." He eyes me silently for a moment. When I don't move he clears his throat. "They are waiting for you."
"Right, of course." There are too many people here, too many witnesses. I'm safe. For now. What's the harm in going with him? There will be time to run later.
Assuming they don't break my legs.
"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you face to face at last Owen!" The man who greets me as I enter the private library is tall, slender, and older than my grandfather. Yet he moves with surprising grace and his handshake shows his strength. I couldn't break his grip if I tried.
"It is an honor that you've taken the time to see me," I say with a smile that feels as fake as my name. "I don't want to take up too much of your evening..."
"Nonsense! Come sit with us for a while. Edgar? Fetch us some tea, won't you?" He brings me to circle of armchairs filled with a who's who of people I have no business being in the same room with. Not the real me, at least. Owen, on the other hand...
"Hello gentlemen," I say as I ease into the only unoccupied seat. "So. Who's ready to bomb some rebel villages back to the stone age?"