Untitled

“I can’t wait to get home.”

“Really? How come?”

“Because…”

“Because?”

“I miss home.”

I woke up. I turned to look at my alarm clock on my bedside table; it shone four in the morning. I turned to face the wall. The heat stifled me, even while sleeping naked. I sweated profusely. My king sized bed would soon turn into a pool. I turned again. The streetlights glared through the sheer fabric on the open windows. I turned again. I felt a shadow past by. I fell asleep again.

“Doesn’t everyone miss home, at least once?”

“I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I hate home.”

“Why?”

“I hate home.”

A rooster’s call woke me up at six. It was my alarm. Once, while in a party, I thought it would be fun to have a rooster’s call as my alarm setting. The next morning, after all those martinis, I found out I was dead wrong.

I reached with my hand and clicked the alarm off. I sat on the edge of my bed. Outside, the sun was brilliantly declaring the morning had come. The honks of the cars were its orchestra’s trumpets. I cursed the day loudly.

I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was ruffled. My body was sweaty; I could even smell it. I scratched my chest, told myself to get a shower, and got into the shower. I turned the knob to the coldest setting. As soon as the water hit me I jumped back, reeling against the cold. Slowly I got used to it. While I showered I kept on turning the water hotter and hotter, until the heat almost burned my skin. I felt more alive than ever. I turned the water off. I got out, dried myself, brushed my teeth, and put on my suit. It was Monday, another great workday.

After I finished tying my blue stripped tie I looked at the mirror again. I looked better now. My hair wasn’t a hay stack any longer. I didn’t smell like sheep in the summer. Even better, the gray suit with the white shirt made me look great. At least, that’s what my girlfriend always said.

I grabbed my bag and a little wrapped gift, and then headed out. I locked the door behind me, carefully turning the three locks on my door. If there was any lesson to be learned in a city, it was never to leave a door unlocked. People don’t care to be neighbors, but they care about what you own. I’d lost two plasmas for being careless. I wasn’t about to lose another one.

I headed down the stairs and into the streets. The grey atmosphere greeted me with no passion. The streets were crowded, the people never bothering to look at anyone. I went to the road and yelled taxi while waving my hand in the air. The same yellow taxi cab that always picked me up came up. The guy knew my schedule better than I did. He could even guess when I would be late. I paid well, usually thrice the ticket price. I liked talking to the guy. He was real in this ghost city, and didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought of him. I got into the cab.

“Morning, sir.” Charles always greeted me with sir. He was sitting straight, like he always would. His posture could challenge that of any king. He had long, brown hair set back in a pony tail. He had brown eyes. It was what I knew the most about him. We only talked through the rear-view mirror.

“Morning, Charles. How’s the family?”

“Great, as usual. My son, Mat, just got honors in school this year.”

Mat was a trouble maker, as far as Charles had ever described him. I was surprised. “That’s great!” Charles laughed. My voice almost squeaked. I really didn’t know why.

“Yeah, we’re taking the family out to dinner. Maybe something in the Italian neighborhood.”

“That sounds better than my plan: a cheeseburger and fries.”

Charles crackled up again. “Yeah, it does.”

A minute later we were at the office building, a colossal structure of steel and glass. It was everything that could be said about modern styles, except with the one detail that always struck out to everyone – the Greek columns. They were in the front of the building, tall and mighty, but they made as much sense as cutting your own dick.

“Laters, Charles.”

“Have a good day, sir.”

I paid the man four times the charge this time. He was taking his family out to eat. I wanted him to leave a good tip. As I walked towards the double glass doors, the doorman opened them. I walked in, glad to be in air conditioning for the first time in days.

“Morning, sir.”

“Morning, Jack. How’s life holding you up?”

“Decent, sir. I got paid. I feel better today than yesterday.”

I laughed a little. “Glad to hear it.”

I continued walking past the insensitively large front desk, the window walls, and the morning-should-not-ever-come crowd. I got into the elevator, which was always just there for me. It wasn’t crowded at all. I was early, again, and with good reason. People always smelled like smoke in the morning.  I hated smoking. I reminded me of my dead mother. I pushed the button, the seventeenth floor, held the door open for a second, and when no one came I let it go. The door closed, and the elevator took me up. I waited. The Beetles were playing as elevator music. I thought it was priceless.

When the elevators door opened next I was greeted by at least a hundred assistants. I immediately proceeded past them, walking fast and furiously torwards the haven of my office.

“Sir, the reports came in last –”

“Sir, a new company has shown interest to be our –”

It continued, sir this, sir that, sir what, who, when, where, how, and even why. I turned to face them when I reached my office’s door.

“Good morning, guys.”

They stopped. Some stood agape. Inside, I was roaring in laughter. I don’t think they’d ever heard a “Good Morning” from me, ever. I guess they weren’t use to some kind of acknowledgement.

“Err…” was their best response. “Morning?” Someone ventured, some intern, unsure of the consequences.

“How’s the weather?” I asked next. This time, their confused reactions clearly told me that as far they were concerned, there was no outside, no nature. All they knew was cubicles and restrooms. I went from laughing to crying inside.

“Anyway, I want all of those reports on email by eleven.” They scattered. I turned to look at the corner, where Jessica was standing. She was wearing one of her designer dresses again, a pink one. She leaned against the wall, letting her blonde hair cover some of her face. She looked like a star. I wanted to fuck her again.

“Hey, sugar,” she whispered. She walked to me, making sure that every step she took was movie perfect. Her pink heels didn’t make a sound. She kissed me, and I kissed back, pushing my tongue into her mouth. We stopped and she smiled.

“You still got it,” I said softly.

“Oh, really? Where do you think that’ll take you?”

“Someplace quiet, with maybe a bed. Or maybe not. The floor’s good enough for me.”

She pushed herself against me. She started playing with my tie. “Oh, no. Not until tonight. You know what tonight is, right?”

“Umm… I can’t remember. Something about a birthday…” I pulled my hands into my pocket, and pulled out the small gift. She looked at me surprised.

“Now, what would that be?”

“Well, I don’t know. Better open it and find out.”

She took the gift from me, and carefully opened it. Inside was a brown box with no markings. She looked at me again, and batted her eyelashes. She opened the box and screamed in delight. It was the pearl earrings she had been eyeing for months. She jumped on me and kissed me again. I kissed back harder this time. We stopped when we hear the elevator ring in the incoming crowd. She pushed herself against me again.

“My dear sir, you just got yourself a really long night.”

“That’s what I hoped for.”

She laughed again, softly, and walked away. She made sure to grace my balls with her leg. As she walked away, never making a sound, she was still movie perfect. God, did I want to fuck her.

I went into my office and began the daily work. I had orders to fill for my office, papers to send to be filed, papers to read and sign, papers to shit on, papers to worship God with. There were more kinds of papers all over the office. I read my email. The reports were mostly useless. One caught my attention, though. Some small company looking to grow wanted to become our client. I looked them up and saw they were a great investment. I immediately set the intern who sent that report to work on it. He was so happy he called me sir twice. This was all before lunch.

At lunch, I sent another intern to get me my food from the Italian restaurant next door. When the guy finally came back I was nearly starving. I had continued working while waiting. I was nearly done with the day’s work when he arrived.

“Here you go, sir.” He placed the sealed bag and the water bottle on my newly cleaned desk.

“Thanks, kid.” I waited for him to walk out. I proceeded to close all the blinds and the office door. I sat back on my desk, and stretched a little. Then, I popped my neck. I opened the packaged and found the perfect order: two slices of greasy cheese pizza. I took one bite and immediately felt better. As far as I was concerned, pizza was the only lunch worth having.

After lunch, I went to several meetings. One was with clients, who didn’t know what they wanted and yelled at us for giving it to them. Another was with investors, who thought the company should grow much faster than the three percent we grew annually. The next one was with lawyers from another firm, who was set on suing us for no good reason. The last meeting, the one I dreaded the most, never came to pass. Our boss, Cunningham, had gotten sick over his lunch and had to leave. It was going to be about cutting the expense accounts. I was glad I had a few more days to spend the company’s money.

At five I walked out of my office. The ever present team of assistants jumped on me again, with last minute reports and queries to be made. I listened to all of them at once, taking it all in without a glitch. The intern who brought me the small company said that they were ready to pay for the best package we offered. I stopped, and looked at the kid.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. They just recently made a huge investment that paid off bounties. They want to be big.”

I stood, wondering. Everyone else shut up. This could be really good or really bad. “Research them. I want to know everything about them. I won’t take them if they look dodgy. Find anything you can. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

With that done, the almost incessant chatter kept on going. More reports and more queries for the morning. I finally reached the elevator. I got in, by myself, and told them the same thing I always told them.

“Email me that information.”

They all chanted “yes” and scattered again. I closed the elevator door, and sighted with relief. I was alone in it again. The Beetles were still playing. I pressed the ground floor button and waited again. I got out of the elevator and walked to the street. I yelled for a taxi. This time it wasn’t Charles. I knew it wouldn’t be him because he was with his family now.

“Good evening, sir,” the driver greeted me.

“Hello.” I gave him my home address and he started driving. I decided to continue the conversation. “How’s life?”

“Alright. Making a living, you know?”

“Yeah. You can say that twice.”

We kept on talking, almost like I talked with Charles. This guy was younger, though, and less real. I don’t know how Charles made himself real. I wanted to be as real, too, but I could never do it.We finally got to my home, and I paid the guy the fare plus twenty percent tip. His eyes looked very surprised.

“Thank you, sir. You’re too kind.”

“It’s not a problem, man. Just keep it real.”

He nodded, and I got out. The grey city world was still as unwelcoming as a dragon’s mouth. I went into my apartment, and locked the doors behind me. When I got in I found a message waiting for me in my phone. I thought it was odd. People called me on my cell phone, never at home. I clicked the play button.

“Leave a message,” my voice asked.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s Jessica. Grovel is keeping me back all night for a portfolio he needs to finish by tomorrow. I’m really sorry. I was really looking forward to tonight. Call me. I still want to hear your voice.” The message finished with a click.

I was a little confused, not too sure about what had just happened. I called Jessica on my phone. The machine rang twice before she answered.

“Hey, sugar,” she answered in her movie style.

“Hey, I just got your message.”

“Oh, good. I didn’t think you would get it in time. I hope you haven’t gotten dressed or anything.”

“No, I just got home. I was just going to take a shower.”

“Ok, good. I’m really sorry, honey. I really wanted this to happen, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. We can do lunch. It’ll be great.”

“Yeah, just what I wanted to say.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

She clicked her phone shut. I closed mine. I decided to pour myself some cognac, and sat in the living room by the fireplace. I sipped the drink slowly, letting it fill me. I was still a little horny. I sighed, and got up. I noticed the cut logs from the winter still next to the fireplace. I called for delivery, cheeseburgers and fries. All this time I was looking at the logs. The apartment was still very hot, but I kept looking at them.

When my food arrived, I ate it quickly while I watched TV, but I never paid attention to it. I wasn’t interested. When I finished, I turned the TV off and looked at the fireplace again. I wanted to turn it on.

I immediately set to work. I put the logs in place, and looked around for the gas valve. It took me a while to find it, since I almost never used the fireplace. The fire took a little while to get going. Once it did, though, it was roaring. I sat back in an arm chair, and looked into it. I looked for hours. I was transfixed.

Slowly, I began to take my clothes off. One by one, I threw them in the fire and waited for them to burn out. My jacket, belt, pants, shirt, undershirt, shoes, socks, and underwear all went into the fire. I watched them slowly burn away thousands of dollars worth of cloth and leather. I sank back into the arm chair, and continue sipping the drink I never finished.

Slowly, I dozed off. I kept opening my eyes, waiting for the clothes to finish burning. The room was more comfortable now. It wasn’t hot or cold. It was just there, sort of relishing the change. I finally fell asleep, still naked on the arm chair.

“We’re here. Home at last.”

“I don’t want to stay.”

“I thought you wanted to come home.”

“I hate home.”