It’s Monday.
He awakens to a chiming mobile device — three times. A shower, shave and cup of oatmeal later, he descends to the street below.
A bus full of blank stares and empty souls carts him a few blocks shy of his destination. On foot, he passes a bagel shop, a haberdashery, a florist, a place that sells imitation purses, a cafe and a wine bar.
He spins through the revolving doors that spew him into an underworld of lettered buttons, humming machinery and of course, more blank stares and empty souls.
He holds his breath for most of the day in hopes that it might end sooner. Eventually, an imaginary authority that resides in his mind allows him to untether himself from the desk and be on his way home where he’ll worry he’s not making the most of the two hours before bedtime.
Tuesday.
Chimes. Blank stares. Empty souls. A bagel shop, a haberdashery, a florist, a place that sells imitation purses, a cafe and a wine bar. Revolving doors and humming things. Fleeting free time amid an impending bedtime.
This goes on for days. Weeks. Months. And years.
Until one day. A Friday.
Chimes. A shower and shave. A cup of oatmeal.
Cramming into a bus of blank stares. Spilling out into a street of empty souls. He passes a bagel shop, a haberdashery, a florist, a place that sells imitation purses…
Then he stops. He looks into the cafe. What was always the ephemeral aroma of coffee beans and a handful of blurry faces has now become a picturesque view of life. A different life. One that may have beckoned him for years, but he willfully ignored.
For the first time he realizes: he has a choice.
He walks into the cafe.
He’ll be late for work today.
neuspaper 