You think deeply about the shifting options laid out before you, locked only on your newly found companion's ever changing eyes. You cautiously lift the pen, shocked by its weight, almost the same as a twenty penny spike. You move the dagger of fast fading opportunity towards the contract only to be met by an intense rumble in your gut.
Your company leaks out the words, "Commit to your dreams no matter the cost, like A-Rod…"
You diligently jab the pen forward for a second time only to be met again by the deep, bellowing rumble, like the noise you would imagine a waking brown bear releases after a long winter's sleep.
Stopped in your tracks for a second time, your companion, frustrated by your hesitation, growls, "Give in to your dreams no matter the cost, like Ghandi…"
Your gut, your very being, rumbles to its very foundation. You stop, sobered by the thoughts racing through your mind. Is this your body's, possibly your very soul's way of warning your greedy mind to the ill intent of your mysterious counterpart, or is it something more sinister? Your mind races to today's lunch of left overs—New City Happy Dragon Take Out Chinese Food's extra spicy lemon chicken. Your heart skips a beat; when was the last time you had ordered from there? A week? A month? What had you been thinking! That place had been closed down two weeks ago for failing a fourth health inspection. Your stomach immediately quakes and turns like the deep cold waters of the North Pacific being ravaged by the gales of November. You think immediately I need to leave…I need a bathroom…I need fresh air…I need space. Still gripping the ever heavy pen in your now sweating hand, your companion's daring eyes still locked in your gaze.
It now practically spits out, "Give into your dreams no matter the cost, like Benedict Arnold."
All you can fathom in your trembling, boiling gut and mind is, Do I run for the men's room or do I sign and make my terms…