It was a normal, sunny day and I took a deep breath in as I smelled the fresh scents of the garden. It was still early; around 8 AM. I had been taking my usual morning stroll through the wonderful scenery before going back inside my apartment to have coffee and read the newspaper. As I sipped at the steaming cup, I would often glance out the window, checking the weather was all good before I went out to buy a few groceries at the market. Everyone always sold the same items, never changing their stock for even a day.
The market crowd got to know each other real well, especially since there was no competition. You sold the foods you had, and no one else sold the same. What you have is what everyone else has. It is quite a good system if you think about it. Everyone at peace. However, it can be dull at times. When a seller is out of stock or no one in town sells the items, you can’t buy it. Or order it.
However, I am not here to bore you about the daily, repetitive life of this town. It is important though. Lately I’ve been feeling disconnected, like my world has fallen down but it didn’t fully recover. Perhaps I am feeling off because I dropped the glass orb on the floor, almost breaking it. A small crack has appeared on the side. Perhaps I should note that my world is not like yours. Maybe it is, I’m not really sure because I have nothing to compare my world to. But everyday at precisely 7:00 AM, the sun pops up into the sky, without bothering to rise. It stays there till it sets at various times of the evening, when it pops back down again.
I like organization so I run my schedule the same: I wake up at 6:30 AM, shower and dress. At exactly 7:00 AM, I open my bedroom door and turn on my living room light. Sometimes I try to sync my light switch with the sun, but I always end up being a second too early. I have much more fun doing that than I’d like to admit. I leave the lights on in my apartment, although I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps so I don’t feel so lonely when I return.
It never rains here. Just various patches of darkness that we call clouds. I had read about rain in a textbook I found at the back of my closet. I had no idea where it came from, perhaps the neighbours or previous owners left it behind. It talked about concepts completely foreign to me. I’m not much of a reader, so without bothering to finish it, I tossed it back in the confines of my closet.
My day goes on without change, I keep it in order. I like no change, makes life easier to control. My days are the same as everyone else in the town. Repetitive but never tedious, organized but never boring. We all fit into our place and live happy lives.
As I walk by that shelf containing the glass orb with a small crack, a patch of dark clouds passes overhead creating a shadow of sorts. As I turn the light off in the living room, where it is held, the sun pops out of view eerily in sync. And when I accidentally spilled coffee on the orb, a sudden rain of brown liquid, coffee, fell from the sky. And inside that orb, contained a man. A man whose life was repetitive, but never tedious, organized but never boring. And he too, had a glass orb on the shelf. Just as the million other orbs, each one sitting on that man's shelf.
Repetitive but never tedious, organized but never boring, for they were all the same man.
Written by TangledMystery