Hit the jump for "Routine"
*SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...*
He turns over to hit the snooze button on the blaring alarm. He sits up in bed, rubs his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and throws off the covers. His feet hit the floor and he stands up moving straight into a combination stretch and yawn before grabbing his glasses off of the night stand and placing them upon his face. It's a routine Max has performed hundreds of times at this point.
Another day, another dollar.
It is seven o'clock am. Today is Tuesday, the second day of the work week. As he had yesterday, and as he will do tomorrow, Max shuffles into his bathroom, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He climbs into the shower, letting the water bring him to life, before standing in front of the mirror to engage in his personal grooming routine. He shaves. He brushes his teeth. He combs his hair. The actions are well practiced and executed efficiently.
Max leaves the bathroom, clean and dry, and stands before his closet door. He opens it to find the clothes he'd ironed and hung up last night for the coming day. Shirt, pants, tie. Always the same combination.
He dresses, giving himself a once over in the mirror. He looks fine, of course. As with everything else he's done to this point, he is well practiced in this number.
Finally leaving this little corner of his apartment home, he heads to the kitchen. He retrieves a bowl from the cabinet, milk from the fridge, and he pours himself some cold cereal for breakfast.
It's seven forty-five am when he leaves his apartment and catches the bus. He rides alone and in silence this morning. It's a thirty minute bus ride to the office.
James, one of the security guards on the first floor, greets him. He returns the greeting with one of his own.
He rides the elevator up to the fifth floor and gets off. Before him lies a sea of cubicles. Three columns over, six rows down is his. He passes Abby's, as he does every day, and stops at the pink sheet of paper to see what today's daily message is.
“Life is what you make it.”
You never were any good at building things
As he thinks this to himself, Abby peeks out at him. She gives him a modest smile, a little wave. His heart lifts a bit and he waves back before moving on to his cubicle.
The day drags on, as days at work are wont to do. He taps away at his keyboard doing what office workers do. He takes time out every now and then to check his favorite websites. Lunch rolls around and he goes down to the cafeteria to purchase a sandwich. Back to his desk and he checks his e-mail to find Tom's sent him another joke.
Subj: So I hear Mike Tyson is making a new computer...
Max reads it. It's pretty corny, but it helps to break up the monotony of the last hours of the day. Five o'clock rolls around and Max packs up to head home. Abby's already gone when he passes her cubicle. He rides the elevator back down to the first floor, nods his goodbye to James, and is out the door.
It's six when he gets home. He changes clothes, swapping out his work clothes for a simple t-shirt and pair of shorts to lounge around in. He flops onto his couch and turns on the TV. Nothing he wants to watch is on, so he turns on his game console and chugs away at that for a couple of hours.
Once he's had enough of that, he gets up and heads to the kitchen. He rummages through his freezer, trying to decide what he'll microwave for himself tonight. He settles on the basic steak and potatoes.
After finishing his dinner he chooses what he'll be wearing for tomorrow, irons it and sets it out. He heads back to his room then and prepares for bed. He hops in and out of the shower and brushes his teeth. He gets into bed with a book in hand, turning on the light on his nightstand to get some reading done. Finally, at ten fifty pm he sets down the book and opens his drawer and reaches in. His hand brushes across the contents. Loose ends, knick-knacks, the gun he purchased after last month's robbery, until finally he finds the pills for his insomnia. He takes one, switches off the light, and settles in for bed.
---
*SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...*
He turns over to hit the snooze button on the blaring alarm. The morning routine proceeds normally. Today he chooses to stop at the McDonald's across the street to grab some breakfast instead of eating cereal.
He and James exchange pleasantries, he rides the elevator to his floor. He gets off, heads down the row of cubicles, stopping to see Abby's message today.
“Hang in there, baby.”
That's pretty much all you've ever done.
Max frowns when he sees that Abby isn't in her cubicle at the moment. It's always nice to see her smiling face first thing. It helps to get him through the day. Hopefully he can catch her at lunch.
The day moves like the day always moves. Tedious work, some websites, lunch, and back to the desk. Tom's sent him another e-mail.
Subj: Promotion...
It's a surprising bit of good news in an otherwise ordinary day. Max's boss had been let go and they were looking for a replacement. Max's name had come up and Tom was pulling for him. He'd know by Friday.
Max leaves work feeling better than he had in some time. He catches the bus and chats with an older lady sharing the seat with him. His spirits are riding pretty high.
He arrives home and switches on the television. M.A.S.H. Is playing, he's caught it just as the opening is starting. He decides to watch the rest of the film and then the next one that comes on.
He eats, then prepares his clothes. He gets ready for bed, reads, and then takes his pill. It's been a fairly ordinary day with the exception of the contents of Tom's e-mail. Still, for once he is looking forward to tomorrow.
---
*SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...*
He turns over to hit the snooze button on the blaring alarm. Things proceed as they always do, with max grabbing a bagel on the way out of the door. He rides the bus, he arrives at work, he takes the elevator, and he stops at Abby's cubicle.
“Just Do It.”
I will!
Again, he seems to have just missed Abby, but today he's going to just do it. He's going to ask if she'd like to get dinner some time. Finally.
Work, websites, lunch, desk. As usual he finds an e-mail from Tom waiting for him.
Subj: Friday after work
Apparently a few of the guys in the office are planning to head to the bar on Friday. Tom wants to know if he is in. Max sends back a response in the affirmative.
When four o' clock, quitting time for Abby, rolls around he's there, waiting for her, being as smooth as he can make himself. She smiles, as does he. The preamble conversation is brief and light. He tells one of Tom's jokes, she laughs. And then he asks her.
She frowns, shakes her head a bit, apologizes. She's already seeing someone.
Max takes the elevator down, catches the bus, heads home. He doesn't watch any TV, nor play any games. His book goes untouched, his clothes unset out. He crawls into bed and falls to sleep without his pills.
---
*SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...*
He turns over to hit the snooze button on the blaring alarm. He follows his routine up to the point where he realizes he hasn't set out any clothing for today. By the time he's managed to look even half decent, he's missed the first bus. And so he must wait.
He arrives at his office building late. He rides the elevator up and heads for his cubicle. He passes Abby's on the way, catching her daily message out of the corner of his eye.
“Hell is no other people.”
Hell is what you're living.
He works through the day, skipping lunch. At around three he receives an e-mail from Tom.
Subj: Bad news...
He didn't get the promotion.
At the end of work Tom comes to his cubicle. He tries to cheer Max up a bit, but to no avail. Still, he insists that he keeps his word and joins him and the guys for drinks. Max acquiesces.
It's about twelve when Max is dropped off at home by Tom. He's drunk, he had a lot of things to drink about. He turns on the TV and it's all just reruns. He flips through for a while, leaving it on the movie channel.
Where have you gotten in life, Max? What have you done in thirty years? Every day is the same thing. Day in, day out, dusk til dawn. What are you living for?
He heads back to his room, leaving the TV in the living room on, M.A.S.H. playing for the second time that week. He sits on the edge of his bed and sobs for a few minutes.
The pathetic thing is that there's nothing you can do about it. You've blown both your chances.
Max opens his drawer and reaches in. His hand brushes across the contents. Loose ends, knick-knacks, the pills for his insomnia, until finally he finds the gun he purchased after last month's robbery.
He loads it, cocks it, and places it under his chin.
Max pulls the trigger.
---
*SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...*
He turns over to hit the snooze button on the blaring alarm. He sits up in bed, rubs his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and throws off the covers. His feet hit the floor and he stands up moving straight into a combination stretch and yawn before grabbing his glasses off of the night stand and placing them upon his face. It's a routine Max has performed hundreds of times at this point.
It is seven o'clock am. Today is Monday, the first day of the work week.
Max bathes, grooms, and dresses. He pours himself a bowl of cold cereal before catching the bus at seven forty-five am. He rides alone and in silence.
He arrives at work, greeted by no one. He rides the elevator up and passes Abby's cubicle on the way to his. She's not there, but her usual daily message is hanging up.
“Your life can only get better if you live it.”
Max works through the day. He heads to the cafeteria for lunch. At 5 o' clock he leaves and catches the bus home.
His console won't work and everything on TV is either of no interest to him or something he's seen. So he has a microwaveable dinner, sets out his clothing for the next day, and goes to bed.
---
*SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...*
He turns over to hit the snooze button on the blaring alarm. He gets up, bathes, grooms, dresses, pours his cereal, and catches the bus.
He arrives at work, takes the elevator, and gets busy. He has lunch, returns to his cubicle and heads home.
Nothing is on when he arrives, he's finished his books. Nothing to do but the pre-bed routine.
---
*SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...* *SCREEEHH...*
He turns over to hit the snooze button on the blaring alarm. It's Friday and nothing is new. It's all the same song on repeat again. He hasn't seen Abby all week. And, he realizes, he hadn't looked at her message since Monday. He eats his cereal and catches the bus.
Coming down the hall he faces the sea of cubicles, heading for his. Abby still isn't in hers today, but there's the message, right where it always is.
“Suicide is a sin, Max.”
He gets to work in his cubicle. He has lunch in the cafeteria. He goes home at 5. He does not watch TV, play a game, read, or engage in any recreational activity. He goes through the nightly routine and then lays down to sleep.
He will do the same tomorrow.
Well, I think you did quite well here, myself. I don't think the occasional snippet of dialogue would alter the flow. Might help it in spots, in fact. Sometimes describing the exchange is adequate, sometimes it's actually simpler and more concise to let a few quotation marks fly. Ultimately, a pretty freaky piece. Keep up the good work!
ReplyDeleteThe atmosphere is just right on this one - it's creepy even before it gets creepy. Only one point of confusion: Abby's final note. Even if she somehow knew he could read it, what would be the point of writing it?
ReplyDelete