Hank awoke slowly. Peering over
his pillow, he spotted the bright red numbers of his digital
alarm clock. Dammitall, he thought. Why does this
always happen? It was 5:57AM. Three more minutes, let's do
this. He quickly shrouded his head in his warm blankets and
shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't help but think philisophically
at this crucial moment. Time doesn't go by at the same speed
in dreams as it does here... right? If only I can fall asleep,
I'll have as much time as I want before I have to get up. He
willed himself as hard as he could to fall asleep. Tension
overwhelmed his mind; he peeked at the clock again in
frustration. 5:59AM. Shit, hurry... you can do it, Hank.
He felt himself slowly fall into the dream state; he was leaving
his lumpy futon and reaching for his Shangri-La. I can... see
it... it's so close... it's right here....
Brang! Brang! Brang! Brang!
"Dammit! I was so close that
time!" shouted Hank from under his covers. Brang! He
hastily flung his entire bedspread across the room and slammed
his palm on the noisy clock. Sitting up now, he looks groggily
around the room; a paradise it was not. Dirty clothes, empty pop
cans, random bits of paper, stale food on moldy plates as well as
crushed chips lay cluttered around the room. Cleaning it up was
number one on his long list of things to do; the actual list was
probably somewhere under his bed. He found himself gently dozing
off as he sat there in the dark. "Aaaahhhhg," he yawns
and finishes it off with a heavy sigh. "Hmmmm." 6:07AM.
Snap out of it! Time's a wastin'...
Hank stood up from his bed and
stretched his arms high into the air. "Eyeaaaahhhhh!"
he roared, banishing remnants of sleep that might try and slow
him down again. Tip-toeing about the various obstacles, he made
his way to the hallway. From there he went into the bathroom and
relieved himself with much satisfaction. After flushing the
toilet, Hank settled his gaze on the medicine cabinet mirrors
that hung over the bathroom sink. Dark circles lined the bottom
of two eyes, two eyes in the mirror; they met his own eyes and
the two stared at each other for a while. Placing his hands on
the rim of the sink, he moved in real close to the guy, their
noses almost touched. Who the fuck are you? No answer. So
Hank waited; and in waiting, he started falling slowly asleep
again, standing up.
I'm here! I can feel the sand in
my toes and sun on my back. Oh, god, that breeze feels great.
There's so much to do here, but I don't have to do anything.
All's I need to do is relax. Oh, hello miss. Thanks, yeah, I'd
love a pina colada. Haven't had one of these in forever!
Incredibly and completely asleep,
Hank's body relaxes. In rapid succession, both of his hands slide
off the sides of the sink and his feet slip out from under him
and his jaw slams into the hard, white glass sink.
"Ack! Son of a ..." Hank
cries as he sits on the ground under the sink. "Mother....
Ahhhh.... it stings...."
Standing up, he looks back at the
mirror. What an idiot.... There is blood dripping out his
mouth so he grabs the hand towel hanging on the right of the sink
and wipes his mouth clean. Turning on the cold water, he splashes
his face with it a few times in another attempt to fully awaken
himself, as if his recent jolt wasn't enough. Refreshing.
His routine finally picks up a
little speed right here. He gathers a clean pair of undies from
his room as well as the other pieces of his attire for the day:
socks, blue jeans, a blue t-shirt and of course his sun glasses.
Before going back to the bathroom, he makes one last stop at the
hall closet to grab a clean towel.
Piling all his clothes and towel on
the sink, he finally hops himself into the shower. Turning on the
water, he instantly wishes he had waited. Cold, cold, cold,
cold. Move away, as far away as possible. Just a few more seconds
and it will warm up... just a few more seconds... Okay, it's
getting warm... oh, wait, no it's not. Come on, come on! My guys
are shrivelling up pretty bad, this might not be good for
them.... ... ... Okay, this is just ridiculous! What's going on,
I've been dying here for what seems like forever!
Bang bang! He feels the
floor underneath him vibrate. Is that the land-lady, Mrs.
Skerg?
"Hank! It's your land-lady,
Mrs. Skerg from downstairs!" he hears faintly from the floor
below him. "Ther's no hot watar, kid! Got the plumber
checkin' it out a bit latar in the week!"
"Okay, Mrs. Skerg!
Thanks!" yelled Hank down to his wet feet. Yeah, thanks a
lot... one day I'm gonna steal your broom...
Oh well, better suck it up and
deal with this... dammit! He hastily washes his hair and
extremities and gets out of the cold shower. Being careful not to
slip again on the linoleum floor, he dries himself off with the
towel he got earlier. Putting on his clothes, piece by piece,
he's finally fully dressed. He puts the sun glasses in his front
pants pocket.
Wasn't such a chore, now was it?
he says to the mirror.
It was a real triumph of the
human spirit, just like every morning, right? it says back.
Yeah, same shit, different
day....
Hey, get excited 'cause the day
has just begun, Hanky!
Fuck you... damn, don't you ever
shut up?
Yeah, actually... I'm pretty
quiet when you're not around....
Well, I gotta go, have fun in
mirror land. Hank says, waving good bye as he exits.
Oh, I will. It's pleasent
here... like an island paradise!
Hank comes back in quickly. What
did you say?
Give it a rest Hank, you'll
never get there. You're gonna be headin' out to this dead-end
factory job, day after day, fifty years from now, and I'll still
be here to greet you... every single morning.
... I hate you. I really fucking
hate you.
I know.
Hank leaves the mirror and slams
the door behind him. Silence, finally... He doesn't know
anything. Things are gonna get better... right?
He leaves his thoughts in the hall
momentarily and puts his shoes on in his room. His keys and
wallet are on his nightstand still, so he snatches them up and
places them in their pockets.
6:37AM. Back in the hallway: Do
I got time for a glass of juice? Yeah, I'd better take some Advil
too, getting a headache, I think.
6:45AM. Leaving room 453, Hank
walks calmly down the hall and to the elevator. Pushing the down
button, the doors open several minutes later. He hesitates,
looking up and down the hall. At the far end, he sees an old man
locking his apartment door.
"Hey! Young man, can you hold
the elevator for me? I'm late!" the old man shouts down the
hall at Hank.
"Yeah..." Hank said,
waiting for the man as he walks over.
"Thank you, young man."
"No problem." Hank says
as they both enter the elevator.
"Ha, can you believe it?
Haven't been late in twenty years," the old man says.
"Where you off too so early in the morning?"
"Work... you know, same shit,
different day." Hank answers.
"Yeah, me too... I don't know,
maybe today will be different for us."
"You know what? Maybe you're
right. Only one way to find out," said Hank as he put on his
sun glasses.