A Red Door

A man wakes up, but never actually does. He gets in the shower and plans his day. This is useless because he will do the same thing he'd been doing for the past 10 years. The man gets out of the shower and drip dries while looking at himself in the mirror, trying to be content with what he sees. He puts on one of his designer suits, skips breakfast as usual, and drives his Mercedes to work. He arrives at his job and indulges himself in bullshit he calls work that has built up over the weekend. He interacts with his colleagues but never actually speaks a word. He never sees them for that matter. He is blind and mute to the world. At lunch he goes to he same deli he always does and orders the same thing, the only thing he likes. He takes his lunch back to his desk and eats it while staring at a picture he removed from the bottom drawer of his desk. On this picture is himself and the woman he had made stop loving him 10 years prior over an immaturity and selfishness that haunts him every day. A red door he thinks, a red door.

Currently Listening To: Brand New's "Jesus Christ"