The Space

The space had always been there. It was nothing more than white lines painted perpendicular to the curb. So many feet wide by so many feet long, no doubt the result of some sort of regulation. It was oriented toward the south, giving the parker a view of a field that in the summertime was abloom with wildflowers, and in autumn filled with geese. A short, solitary tree shaded the space the best it could with its leaves and branches when the sun was high.

He took the space the first day he arrived. At first he did it to be polite. Everyone else parked in the middle and he feared he would be taking up another's space. Eventually, however, he felt at home there, and never felt the need to park closer, even through rain and snow. The shade was nice in the summer, and he enjoyed looking out across the field before leaving his car in the morning. Things were good.

Time went on, and every day he pulled into the space the same as the day before. Days became weeks, and weeks turned to months. A year went by, still he kept the space. Something was beginning to change though. Despite his devotion to the space, he felt an overwhelming, crushing feeling of monotony. Every day he drove in the same lane, turned the same corner, pulled into the same lot and squared up to his space. He was beginning to get...bored.

Until one fateful morning...he drove in the same lane, turned the same corner, pulled into the same lot, and for some unconscious reason, pulled into his space diagonally. He sat there for a moment, confused, not sure if he should back up and park square as he had hundreds of time before. However, after a moment, he got out, walked backwards a few paces and observed his car, in his space, parked at an askew 45 degree angle. He pivoted on his heel, took a skip, and with a smile on his face, walked towards the door.