The Choice Era. Part 1. Nata Kay

the very essence of the problem. There were no distractions or unnecessary emotions, only high-quality help.

      On the other hand, Harry kept on thinking, what was bad in reading a few pages? In any case he urgently needed a change of pace. His routine working process didn’t work so Harry desperately needed something quite opposite.

      Harry hesitated for a few more moments and then threw another glance at the books, shrugged his shoulders, cheered up, took the top volume and opened the first page.

      The story told in the book was as old as time, but still it vividly stood out the stream of similar plots and scenarios, according to which films and TV series were filmed in recent decades.

      The book narrated about a woman who gave birth to an illegitimate daughter and had to raise her alone. She had to face a lot of difficulties. She went through condemnation from her family and friends, struggled with failure to combine work and child-rearing, plunged into financial instability and experienced many other troubles.

      No doubt, this story happened at a time when parents didn’t know until the last who would be born – a son or a daughter. The sex was told after birth itself by doctors. There were no procedures to cancel the gender identification, no ultrasound, only uncertainty, intuition and a set of unreliable omens.

      Of course, the whole plot with all its details and shades couldn’t be revealed in several pages, and so far Harry managed to read only two. Frankly speaking, Harry was almost not interested in the plot as well as in the stylistics, but the emotions of the woman, on whose behalf the story was narrated, attracted his attention.

      The woman was glad that her daughter was born. This woman gave herself fully in girl’s happiness. The author didn’t leave any doubts about it, but questions in Harry’s head were rising one by one. For example, how would the woman have behaved if she had had a son? Would she feel the same or something different? Unfortunately, the writer didn’t intend to answer such questions, in his creation he sought to answer the different questions.

      «From the first seconds of her life I knew what I want her future to be like,» the book said. «Strong, successful, independent.»

      These words immediately stumped Harry. What if the daughter wished to be a simple housewife who waited for her partner to come home from work every day? Or if she decided to follow not the business, but the creative path?

      Harry frowned again. He remembered his parents dreaming of him growing up, choosing sex on his own and then enlisting the civil service. They were exactly dreaming of it, because it was strictly forbidden to impose their opinion on kids. They had their own lives to fulfill their desires.

      Harry’s parents didn’t want their child to choose private business. The reasons for this were, as expected, quite conditional and subjective, but they were voiced after Harry had grown up. Harry never expressed displeasure or reacted aggressively to his parents’ silent dreams. He respected his parents, but in the end he went into the world of private business and never regretted his choice.

      He enjoyed his life as it is. Though there were some small disasters such as annoying working problems or tedious evenings with too cheerful friends, Harry usually handled moments like these.

      Over the years parents came to terms to their son’s choice and learnt to enjoy his happiness. Or maybe they learned to pretend to be happy. Anyway, Harry’s parents were doing fine with their son going his way.

      But now Harry wasn’t going anywhere. He kept reading and each line gave him strange contradictory feelings. Nelson perfectly knew that the main character wanted the best for her child, but in fact she was choosing this best for the daughter, prejudging her life’s path. And Harry was particularly struck by the fact that the heroine wasn’t absolutely embarrassed by this kind of behavior.

      On page ten Harry literally made himself take his eyes off the book, close it and put it back to its stack friends.

      A thought led to another in Nelson’s mind. Sometimes thoughts were mixing-up, sometimes getting in each other’s way. Harry didn’t like this careless state of affairs in his own head, but now, despite the endless stream of consciousness unformed into a final opinion, Harry suddenly realized the obvious. He didn’t think about work while he was reading. At all. He had even forgotten where he was.

      Harry must quickly come back to reality. He didn’t know he could sink into some different world, the world created by the book’s author, but the whole thing was making it clear that it was an exact immersion into the book. Harry had no right to allow that to happen, because he still had a work to do.

      Harry started to act. He suddenly pulled the keyboard and put his fingers on the keys as if he was not an office worker, but a pianist who was to play a concert.

      His fingers typed almost on their own. The inspiration was so unexpected that Harry was afraid he would miss it. Harry hardly blinked. The main thing was to complete the idea without losing it.

      In half an hour the business proposal was fully prepared. Harry reread it again and contentedly leaned back. He didn’t expect it to be so good. No detail was seemed to be missed, there was no reason to worry about whether the customers would like it or not.

      After the work Harry had every right to go home exhausted, but with a sense of accomplishment, although in moments of complete lack of inspiration he thought it would never come to an end.

      Harry always got ready fast. He double-checked if the progress was saved, turned off the screen, got up from the table and went to the exit. On the verge of the door Harry stopped and looked back.

      The book he started was lying motionless at the top of other books. What else would have happened to it? Maybe Harry should put it in a briefcase?

      Harry kept a small briefcase in a drawer. This thing proved useful every now and then in unplanned travels for talks. Harry could put a tablet there and make himself more solid at the same time. Harry wasn’t averse to use this helpful trick on any occasion.

      The book would also easily fit into the case and no one would notice a strange object Harry was carrying. Meanwhile, Harry was surprised to let himself think about it as at first he wasn’t even going to touch the books.

      His feet moved instinctively towards the desk. Harry came back, looked around, took the briefcase out of the drawer and put the book in it. Just one book. The rest were left on the table. Tomorrow, when Bob comes to work, he might not notice that one book is missing, because the stack still looks ponderous.

      Harry fastened the briefcase and headed for the exit again. This time he left the room and closed the door.

      The sun was about to sink below the horizon when Harry walked out into the street.

      This year warm weather wasn’t long in coming. Air had warmed up and the trees had dressed up in their bright green robes. Fresh leaves pleased the eyes and made everybody completely forget about recent cold.

      In such weather it was better to walk in fresh air with family and friends than sit in the office, so Harry promised himself to go out for a picnic with Mona next weekend. Good weather must not be missed in order not to be offended and spoiled.

      A stair of three dozen steps led to the entrance of the building, where Harry worked. Every five years each worker in the building was interviewed about the necessity to install an escalator. Most people didn’t need an escalator. There was an elevator to transport bulky items on the other side of the building and going up the stairs before a start of the working day pleasantly invigorated a lot of workers.

      Harry went down one step and stopped. He took out his phone and dictated a message for his wife. The message said that he had already finished work and would soon be home. He just needed to send it, but Harry didn’t command. Instead he froze with a phone in hand and stared down.

      Harry’s attention was drawn to a young woman perching on the railing down the stairs. She was sitting with her head slightly bent and her legs were