His body jerked him awake while the sunlight coming through the window punched him in the face.
Daniel looked around him to find that he himself had fell asleep on the couch, once again, watching the same movie he had rented, for the third time, and the popcorn he popped from the stove was covering him like a blanket.
The popcorn was in his beard along with his long hair that was tight into a ponytail. Daniel sighed, got up, and shook his long night of depression and confusion off.
He looked around his large, empty home, which was far too big for just one man who wasn’t even there half the day.
It was meant for a family of about four or five, depending on the views of loving a cute and adorable fuzzy animal. It would have been perfect for a family. Yea, a family.
It was five minutes away from Boulder, up on a tiny mountain, with a nice neighborhood. Houses were far away enough to not be bothered, but not in the sense of feeling like you were living off the grid.
Daniel Anderson had felt so selfish that he held up this space all for himself, and no one else. He had four bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, 1 large kitchen and 1 large living room, and too many stairs and too much space, which Daniel hated every inch of that breath taking house that looked over the Great Plains.
He could have easily sold it all. He could have easily sold it, downsized, and went on a vacation to Paris every year if he wanted too, and still pay all the bills. He hated it. It wasn’t paying the bills that killed him; it wasn’t the empty halls that killed him. It was the memories, the memories as to the reason why he would never sell such a horrible place.
Daniel started his usually Friday like every other start of a horrible weekend. He got up from wherever he had fallen asleep, he went to the shower, and thought about what he was going to do for that day.
Stop by Karl’s Café, go to work at Meadow Manor Nursing and Rehab Center from 9 to 5:30, go back to Karl’s Café, read the newspaper, talk to his brother/owner of the café and his girlfriend, Lily, about small talk.
Nothing too deep, but nothing too boring. It was just the type of talking to get through your life, to make everything better, to get your mind off of things that bother you during day without actually talking it.
Then he’ll go by, get fast food, then go to the last of its kind movie rental place, and rent a movie . . . once again. There would be more details to this simple schedule.
He would try to have small, try to ask about people’s day, though he could honestly care less. He would ask himself why bother, but when he was in the shower, letting the water run through his long black hair dripping onto his back, water on his face, pretending to have an old black and white romantic movie scene, or closing his eyes and nothing but black around him pretending that he was going to jump from space to a tiny little pool somewhere in Sweden, or pretending that he was in a war protecting his buddies next to him, he knew the answer to his question as to why bother.
He knew the simple answer to the simple question.
It was because he was human.
Once finished, he got out, and stared at himself in the mirror. He always lifted his head up with pride for his long hair and bread. He dried it really quickly, slapping it back into his usual routine ponytail, and then jumped into his gray scrubs.
T.V. was on in the background, telling him the weather. The handsome weatherman with his shiny white teeth and shiny blonde hair smiled at Daniel.
“And remember folks, grab those coats and bundle up. It’ll be below freezing as snow starts around 4 in the afternoon.”
As Daniel took orders from the man in the box, he opened the door and felt winter’s wind walking in.
He looked up to the sky to see that the sunshine that he woke him up was no longer there. He closed the doors, locking in, and stepping towards his car.
“And remember, be safe.”579Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLylxPw9vcO
