The Man

The man.
I am a mere human being with one mere difference. When I wake up, I feel how I will always feel. I go through the motions of daily life. The alarm clock whines, pining for more attention than mere glances, hoping someday the abuse it goes through will be unexplainable halted. Everyday, my alarm clock cries at 6:00 a.m. I do not feel sorry for it, but I am not angry at it. I have expected the buzz every morning. Nonetheless, I gently push down on the top, sliding in the large, flat button that calms the alarm clock and ceases it's whining.

Brushing off the grogginess of sleep, I stumble to the bathroom. No one is watching me, no one is watching my feet take some deranged form of a skip across the cheep carpet. Along the way, I slide my hand up the wall, hoping to hit the light switch and overwhelm myself from sudden artificial brightness. My bedroom remains dark, save for a few patches of sunrise creeping through the window and between the curtains, but I have better luck with the bathroom light switch and illuminate the small tiled, room.

I glance at myself in the mirror. My hair is no more than what a military short cut allows. My eyes are drooping, and my breathe stinks. It makes sense to shower first,I heat up whenever I sleep, so all I have on are a paper thin T-shirt and ratty boxers. However, I don't anticipate that after a false attempt at freezing myself, I'd have to shave and brush my teeth with a towel wrapped around my waist.

Shivering while you're soaking wet and shivering while you're dry are almost the same thing. I tried to shake off the feeling while I dressed in my usual, almost boring attire. Black collared shirt, black tie, black suit, black dress shoes... even if I were a grown man, my habits had hardly changed. I sighed, and pulled on a heavy trench coat, also colorless, as the sunshine thieves had retreated to be berated by the sudden, pouring rain as the sunshine had brought back nothing from the homes it scoured.

I make my way slowly and longingly gaze at the bus stop, crowded with other people, waiting for then next steel bear on wheels to whisk them away. I am always too early for the bus. I turn, splashing water into the road and start walking toward my occupational headquarters. The clouds have faded all sunlight, even the narcissistic mirror buildings have lost their glint of superiority. I can only laugh, knowing my own boss would be in the same dull mood. He can only feign rage in an attempt to lift his own mood out of the puddle. I'll have to fake my own feelings so he doesn't fire me for a blank face.

The contrast between the second hand concrete chunks and the hand picked marble slabs only proves how life is really 'survival of the fittest'. Inside, the floors are casually walked upon and heavily buffed each week or so. The teeth of the ground are sharp and gleaming, but out there, the brittle bones of an elderly man are repaired every year at best, and even then, it is soon forgotten, pounded, painted, shattered, eroded.

Now, as I walk up to the receptionist, I tighten the strings holding my mask to my blank face. Hello, ma'am

Hello, sir. Such a gloomy day today, isn't it? She laughs the laugh that is meant only to fill the air, to only rob those to unfortunate of oxygen. This thieving laugh can get you to high places in certain areas.

Yes, all this rain is certainly depressing. So how is the boss? That is my main concern, and I am not up for useless formalities. Unfortunately, the receptionist is of no help.

I haven't seen him, but is there anything you need help with?

A loose smile, a calm disposition, I merely say Thank you, I'll just be on my way.

The elevator is quick, silent, and empty. Perhaps the rain had a slight effect on my attitude, but no matter. Whatever mood the boss may be in, I'll try not to pay so much attention to it. However, as the elevator's doors slid cleanly open, the frustrated yells of the boss echoed from his office. Honestly, why would the wall be made of glass when you would hang heavy dark curtains to conceal the privacy of letting useless personnel go? It's no secret by the way the victim would come storming out, suppressing open sobs are presenting a tight, bitter face as they packed up their personal items and rode down the elevator for the last time.

The door to the glass office of the boss swings open as a curt young man exits. He wants to see you. I could eat the bitterness in his voice of a sour steak.

I wonder which mask I should put on next as I stroll, perhaps a bit too casually, to my own desk to place down my damp trench coat, and then to the glass office of the boss. His face is tired, he's rubbing his forehead as if to relieve a pressure ache. Sir?

Please, sit down. He waves to seat in front of his desk. It's classy, blending in with the exotic jungle I have just walked into. I wait, but he only starts organizing paper into stacks on his desk.

Sir? I repeat.

Ah, yes. Don't worry, I'm not going to sack you. I just need you to fix a disaster that one of my top teams have created...

I actually enjoy listening to his version of errors that could have been avoided by a mile if the simple emotional urges had been ignored and later smashed into bits. As the boss requests my help in repairing the damaged situation. I smile my grateful smile, Thank you sir, I'll get right on it.

Sometimes I feel like he knows the man I am.

As it turns out like it usually does, the situation was greatly exaggerated by the boss and merely needed a few loose screws tightened, but some of those screws were blow hards and would not fit into their designated notch. I had to pull my trump card for the umpteenth time before the screw shrunk and agreed to the project. The rain has rested in time for the sun I never got see to set behind the horizon. The ground is wet and the air is freezing, but I am still too early for the bus. I walk home as I always do, unlocking the door to walk in and locking it as I turn my back on it as I always do. I hang up my half of my clothes and lay down the other half as I always do.

I carefully remove my mask and place it down before I sleep, as I always do.