The vibration of his cell phone woke him up abruptly. He had a red spot on his forehead where he sank cranium first into his wooden desk for the past hour and a half. He grabbed his time sheet that was stuck to his face and clocked out with giddiness. As soon as he stepped out of the old-as-dirt building he felt free. He looked down at his scratched leather shoes and tried to remember. What was it that was pulling him out in all directions? It wasnt home, nor food that he was looking for. This was something that he looked for everyday. If it was so vital to his existence, how could he forget? The fuzzy red glare of a traffic light in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He stared at it for a second or two before a cyclist cursed as he almost knocked him over.
The man decided to go to his apartment until he as fully awake. He spent about three minutes trying to decide which key opened the same rusted lock to the same ugly, orange apartment door that he opened every day. As soon as he walked through the door he felt a drop of water right under his eye. He reached a hand up to touch his skin, when he felt another drop running down his cheek. Utterly confused, he craned his neck towards the ceiling. Not a single water stain or drop formed on his ceiling. Surely something must be leaking. He shuffled into the next room and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. The sun threw a glare at the mirror that blinded him if he looked straight towards it. He sunk to the ground in order to see his reflection in normal lighting. All it took was A drop of water strolling down his face for him to realize he was crying. He didnt feel like he was crying, and his eyes looked tired, but normal. He leaned closer towards the mirror to catch a closer look, when he noticed his skin was slowly starting to droop. Wrinkles began to plague his skin and tears started streaming out of his eyes even faster now. He was growing older by the second and his flesh began to decay around his bones. He tried to breathe but he couldnt remain calm. Panic set in and he shrieked in fear. He grabbed his face and his reflection returned to the same boring image he saw everyday. He pushed off from the ground and lept though the doorway. Without bothering to put on a pair of shoes, he sprinted down the stairwell of his apartment complex.
He finally remembered. A dozen ordinary eyes gave him looks as he sprinted by. He felt as if something huge was chasing him. If he ran any faster he would make small earthquakes on the concrete. His mind has never been so consumed by one thing. It ate at the edges of his brain, working towards the center. If this thing ever made it to the center then there would be no end. he threw open the old-as-dirt doors with all the strength he had. He hesitated for a moment, but then summoned all the air that he had from his lungs, and released a very loud and echoing “I QUIT”.
All typing, printing, gossiping, and internal crying had paused. All the tired, sad eyes of his co workers looked up from behind their glazed over stares at computer screens. He kicked the nearest chair over, threw an old green lamp, and flipped a desk, all within a few moments. He glanced over and saw the old man who grumbles at him every day. He jumped on top of the old man’s desk with his bare feet, and snatched up the old man’s cold black coffee. He then proceeded to pour the disgusting liquids all over the man’s poorly crafted toupee. He laughed in a wheezing and delirious manner. He decided his next revenge would be on the middle aged woman who always snickered at him for tying his tie incorrectly. He hopped ontop of her scanner and pressed the green print button as soon as his butt situated directly on top of it. A couple dozen images of his rear end started coming out of the printer. He grabbed the warm sheets of sweet revenge and stapled a couple to the back of her floral blazer. “KISS THIS!” He ran so fast out of the office that he felt as if he was floating.
For the very last time, he threw open the old-as-dirt doors. He stopped at the sidewalk and paused. He looked down and started laughing uncontrollably at his bare feet. The glare of the crosswalk sign in the corner of his eye snapped him out of his mood. The sign glowed with an orange walking stick figure. After making it to the other side he turned around. He took one last look at the building that he wished he could set fire to. He never realized how beautiful the sunset looked as it reflected off of its dirty windows. The glare from the giant setting star caused the glass to look as if it was actually in flames. He felt deep satisfaction at the sight of this.