Chapter 1

There's an alarm, the man wakes to the din only to hit the eight minute snooze. It is 6:32am. He uses this time to stretch, pops and cracks sounding through the overcast bedroom. It's raining again, it always rains. Every day is dreary. Plain bed, plain PJ's, plain slippers. It is now 6:40. The man stumbles to the bathroom to brush his teeth, same toothpaste, same brush, same water cup. He combs his hair and looks at himself in the mirror.

Today was going to be a great day! He was to receive an award for going above and beyond at his place of employment. He was filled with vim and vigor! He brushes his hair and splashes a handful of cold water on his face. Back into the bedroom, swiftly making it and gently laying his best suit upon top. He was going to look his best for this day, rain or shine! Dress shoes on, tie tied, brefecase packed. Out the door he went, the clear sky's and blaze of the sun causing him to blink.

He looked at himself in the mirror, it was a plain stare. It is now 6:41. He combs his hair, and took a wet towel to his face attempting to reduce the dark bags that had formed over the years. Leaning with both hands on the sink, he allows his head to sag and for a brief moment, closes his eyes.

Taking a deep breath he musters the energy to push himself up and shakily saunter back to the bedroom. The rain leaving winding and mysterious shadows around the dark room. He made the bed, the same way he did yesterday and the day before that. Once the bed was made plain it was time for breakfast. The same cereal, the same milk, the same bowl. There he saw his wife, a truly beautiful lady, Florence. Fleur-de-lis he called her after their trip to France. She had fallen in love with the beauty of the flower, and always blushed when he called her.

They had traveled much, visiting Italy, Spain, and Ireland, though it was always France that was held so dear in their hearts. It was at the top of the Eiffel Tower that he proposed, and oh what a wonderful occasion, she said yes. Gently he took her hand and slipped the ring on with a jarring clang.

Looking down he found to his dismay the spoon had slipped into the cereal. With a mulling sigh he reached into the milk to fish it out. A bowl of bran, almond milk, and an aluminum spoon. Once finished, the dish and aluminum ware were washed and placed in the strainer. Before leaving the kitchen he looks out the three windows behind the table, while pondering what a sunny day might look like. It always rains.

He watches as a bird flies by, how beautiful it was, flying free, dressed in all the wonderful colors of grey. It was grey, light grey, and dark grey even. It flew into the window across the street, red was the tie he planned to wear that day, it was Fleur-de-lis favorite color on him. She said it brought out his manly charm, and she so liked a powerful man. He was getting an award that day, for being the best at his job! Cleaning the Eiffel tower in Ireland. Only he had ever accomplished such a feat. His award was to be a golden sink overflowing with diamonds and wet feet.

His hand slips nearly falling to the floor, in a panic he realizes he left the sink running, and quickly turns it off though all too late for the floor had already begun to flood, his towel clogging the drain. He looks in the mirror, combs his hair and leaves for the bedroom. It is now 6:58.

It was too late to have breakfast. Deciding to just grab something on the way he gets dressed. Plain shirt, plain pants, plain belt. No, wait, this belt was special, you see it was given to him by an old friend. They grew up together, played together, worked together. After college his friend happened to be noticed by some little known movie producer. He was to play a very minor role in an indie film being shot in town. Turns out it was his big break. From then we drifted, it wasn't a painful parting, rather more of a solemn good bye, till next time at a cross roads sort of parting. It's been so long, his name has slipped my mind. Oh wait, that right, he gave me this autographed belt after they shot the film. He jokingly said one day it would be worth millions! I got a kick out of that. Reaching down, using both thumbs to curl back the belt.

"Men's warehouse" it said. He stared for a while, a bit disillusioned. His eyes blinked back to reality. Remembering what he was doing, he finished getting dressed. Same socks, same shoes, same tie, in that order, always in that order. The time was 7:03, almost time to leave. He always left at 7:05, it gave him just enough time to make it to work on time while taking the long route through the park. It always rains.