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He woke in the morning and trudged through the small hallway to the kitchen. As he enters the small cooking area he positions his hand on the handle of the freezer door. He swings the upper compartment open and a gust of frozen air envelopes his head. He reaches into the icy chamber and pulls out a package of sausages. Tearing into the cardboard box he removes the links of meat. Carefully he puts them on to a skillet on the stove and he returns to the bedroom. Within the room there is a set of clothes neatly folded on a table at the end of his bed and a closet that spans the side wall. He puts on a pair of khakis, two long socks, and two black oxfords all from the stack of clothes. He then applies a white shirt to his abdomen and elegantly tucks it into his pants. He reaches into the closet to remove a light blue button up shirt which he also tucks into his khakis. Once he is all dressed he turns to face himself in the mirror. He makes minor adjustments to his clothes and long curly hair and once he is satisfied he returns to the kitchen.
As he enters the room, he takes in the delightful scent of sausage. He picks up a plate from the center table and using a spatula pries the greasy from the skillet and places them on the plate. As he walks back towards the center table he opens a drawer and removes both a fork and knife and puts them on the plate parallel to the sausage links. He sets down the plate on the table next to a vase filled with lilacs. He turns around picks up the skillet and drops it into the sink. He takes a seat at the table and quickly ingests his breakfast. Once finished he takes the plate and silverware to the sink and realizes its 7:05 and he needs to be at work by 8:00. The drive takes about forty five minutes and every day since he had his job he had arrived right on time. He wasn’t one to make exceptions so he was pleased that he was making good time. He reached to the set of hooks on the wall where he always hung his keys when he got home but was surprised when he didn’t feel the cold metal of the keys against his hands or the familiar clinking the keys made when they came in contact with one another. He became upset and frantically looked in every other possible alternate location of the keys. Not on the table at the end of the bed, not on his nightstand, not on the center table in his kitchen, not on the coffee table in front of his couch. In his furious search he noticed a small rectangle in the corner of his eye.
He picked it up and examined it. It was a picture of himself in his youth, his face had a wide smile on it and he stood next to his mother happily. Quickly he was flooded with strange memories of his childhood. He was brought up by a single mother and they never stayed in one town for more than a week and when he left for college his mother had gone missing. He lived with his uncle and aunt for the remainder of his college years. They were glad to have him because they couldn’t have children of their own. He was so engrossed in his memories he had completely forgot about his previous search for his keys. He quickly remembered and was angered at himself for becoming so distracted. He turned back to the door to see his keys where back in their original resting place. He was confused but he took them without questioning the situation. He was already 5 minutes off schedule. He walked down a couple flights of stairs from his second story apartment. He unlocked his car but didn’t immediately enter. He thought about the picture again, he had remembered that day with his mother very vaguely though. They were in a small town similar to the two had left just days ago. He remembered his mother had been acting very strange scared almost. But every time he had asked her she said it was nothing. That particular day was especially strange however. He had noticed his mother was calm that day which was very unusual, that was until they decided to take a walk in the park. He recalled his mother almost breaking into tears as she tugged him away to the car. But finally he removed himself from his haze of memories. Now he was a full ten minutes late for work. He left for work.
He arrived at his apartment at 9:00 pm turned on the light of the main room and plopped right down onto the couch. He grabbed at the remote but it wasn’t on the coffee table where it was this morning. He became quite angered as he wanted to watch the nightly news and his previously recorded shows. He marched around his apartment eventually heading towards the bedroom for sleep. He quickly exited the hallway to his room and fell onto the bed. As he laid back down he felt a pain in his back. He sprang out of bed to find he was lying atop his lost remote. He was befuddled by this discovery and slowly and cautiously walked out to the couch. As he sat down he pressed the power button and the TV came to live displaying news of wars, disease, poverty and other related subjects. He heard footsteps in the hallway outside of his room and he got up off the couch slowly. He spun around and he recoiled in fear as he saw me.