Infinity Read Online Free

consciously, like switching gears and working the
clutch, now happened automatically, as if that part of my mind was handling it, making those decisions for me. Maybe that
was all it took, in the end, was the time to let the new soak in. To stand in the face of change and size it up, acquaint
yourself, before jumping in. It was all the pressure that was so hard, those little nudges forward, poke poke poke. If you
just backed off, and let it come to you, it would.
    When I finally made it to the light, I hit my indicator, signalling the left turn that would lead me around the shopping mall
and through two neighbourhoods before depositing me neatly on to my own road. It was the way I’d always gone, up until now,
but this time I didn’t feel that burning burst of shame in it, knowing I was taking the easy way out. I just remembered the
view from up high, the way all the roads led to each other eventually. It didn’t matter which route you took, as long as you
got home.
    I was thinking this as I moved up to the solid green of the light. That burst of freedom in realizing
that my choice was okay. But even so, at the last minute, I turned my wheel to the right, surprising even myself, and shifted
into second as the roundabout came up into my sight. It was crowded with carnival traffic, cars whizzing past: I could see
it, as if I was still up high, the absolute geometry of that perfect circle. This was normally the moment I was dumb scared,
hands shaking, but this time I only pressed further, closer, pressing my shoulders back against the seat as if taking the
scariest, and most exhilarating of rides.
    As I got nearer, I glanced in my rear-view mirror, and saw the Ferris wheel. It was far behind me, brightly lit, and looked
small enough to slide on my finger and keep there. Another circle, representing a kind of infinity that I was only beginning
to understand. So when I looked back at the road, easing myself closer to the roundabout traffic, I sealed that image in my
mind as I merged in, holding my breath, and felt myself fall into the rhythm of the cars around
me. I turned the wheel, leaning into the first curve, feeling that rush of accomplishment and speed as we all moved away from
the centre, further and further out. It was happening so fast, but I was there, right there, alive, wanting this moment to
be like brass rings and Ferris wheels and all the circulars of this life and others, never ending.

Extract from
Just Listen
    I taped the commercial back in April, before anything had happened, and promptly forgot about it. A few weeks ago, it had
started running and, suddenly, I was everywhere.
    On the rows of screens hanging over the ellipticals at the gym. On the monitor they have at the post office that’s supposed
to distract you from how long you’ve been waiting in line. And now here, on the TV in my room, as I sat at the edge of my
bed, fingers clenched into my palms, trying to make myself get up and leave.
    ‘It’s that time of year again …’
    I stared at myself on the screen as I was five months earlier, looking for any difference, some visible proof of what had
happened to me. First, though, I was struck by the sheer oddness of seeing myself without benefit of a mirror or photograph.
I had never got used to it, even after all this time.
    ‘Football games,’ I watched myself say. I was wearing a baby-blue cheerleader uniform, hair pulled back tight into a ponytail,
and clutching a huge megaphone, the kind nobody ever used any more, emblazoned with a K.
    ‘Study hall.’ Cut to me in a serious plaid skirt and brown cropped sweater, which I remembered feeling itchy and so wrong
to be wearing just as it was getting warm, finally.
    ‘And, of course, social life.’ I leaned in, staring at the me on-screen, now outfitted in jeans and a glittery tee and seated
on a bench, turning to speak this line while a group of other girls chattered silently behind me.
    The director, fresh-faced and just out of film school,