Smaller Than Remembered

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

It felt like the end of the world, but really I guess in a way it was the new beginning. Still, a whole lot was about to change, like everything. So I’ll admit it, I took out a second mortgage on my house, but common’ it’s not like I was the only one! It’s just that plane tickets were so expensive now… But I guess that was to be expected, this being the last two months of plane travel. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic, I’m sure someday the scientists and engineers will figure out a high speed mode of transport that doesn’t result in the brutal death of the planet.

It was pretty amazing really, the whole entire world managed to come together on this one. That just goes to show how desperate the situation had become. So here we were, on the brink of changing life as we knew it, you know, so we wouldn’t go extinct, or whatever. Basically, if it wasn’t powered by clean energy, then it wasn’t going to be allowed anymore. It’s the only choice we had.

The addiction was strong, though, and like the fiends we are, jonesing for that one last fix of those delicious, planet wrecking fossil fuels, it had been decided that the world would wait to pull the proverbial plug for two months. The entire human race was rushing to take advantage of this last brief reprieve, which is why I took out the second mortgage on my house. I just had to see Hawaii one last time.

They were limiting all pleasure trips to five days though, so I didn’t have long, but I was determined to make as much of it as I could. Sadly luggage was severely limited on the airplanes as well. They were trying to use every inch of space on these last commercial flights to ship needed goods to those hard to reach places. Life was going to be rough on the islands for everyone once the diesel belching tanker ships stopped chugging their provisions across the rapidly warming ocean. So yeah, we were each only allowed one small carry on, which meant I had packed sparingly, sacrificing outfit changes for an empty duffle bag so I could bring home all of my souvenirs. I envisioned the tales I would tell to my as yet unborn children of the magical islands of Hawaii, while showing them a ukulele, or a pukka shell necklace.

The five days went by too fast, of course, a whirlwind of sunsets and pina coladas. On the last morning I stood in my hotel room, the plumeria scented trade winds blew gently in through the open louvres while I surveyed the pile of souvenirs I had on the bed. Satisfied with my haul I pulled out the empty duffel bag, and my heart sank. It was smaller than I remembered, much smaller, and no amount of creative packing was going to make all of my carefully curated keepsakes fit. Damn.