1417 words. Watch someone’s daily routine unfold

I woke up blinking tears out of my eyes. That was odd. It had never happened before. I must have slept funny or something.

I sat up and rubbed the tears out of my eyes. Maybe it was just some light allergies from my new air freshener. I looked at the clock. It was about eight o’clock. I sighed. I always wake up early.

I got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. I grabbed a bowl and poured a couple oatmeal packets into it. I filled it with water, then put it into my microwave for a couple minutes. I stared at the rotating plate blankly, and yawned. The timer went off and I took my bowl out. I sat at my table and ate, still in my pajamas. I finished the bowl and then washed it out in my sink.

I walked into my bathroom- much more awake now- to brush my teeth. I put on a two minute timer and put the brush into my mouth. Two minutes passed, and so I flossed between my teeth for a bit as well.

I moved into my kitchen again. I wanted to decide what I should make myself for dinner. It would be easier to cook if I let whatever I wanted to thaw. I decided I would just make something simpler tonight, like some sort of pasta, so that I wouldn’t have to put out any meat.

I slowly turned about my kitchen. My eyes scanned it until I eventually saw my knives. I stared at them intently. I stared at them for at least ten minutes, just debating in my own head. I eventually shook my head and forcibly walked to my den.

I tossed open the door, and looked at the bookshelves I had lining the wall. They contained many interesting stories. All of which I’ve read at least twice over. I sighed again. Maybe I should go buy some new books. A couple individual shelves still had extra space. I could fit a bit into them. I shrugged it off for now. I could do something else. The clock only said 8:46.

I decided to take a shower. That could easily blow off twenty minutes. Besides, it’s nice to be clean. It reminds me that I can keep things in order in one way or another. Showers are nice for things besides cleanliness, though. I like the warmth the water gives me. There’s something more tolerable about warm water than warm air.

I finished my shower. I dried up and combed my hair. I looked at my bathroom clock. It said 9:14. That was pretty good amount of time to shower. I opened my medicine cabinet to put my comb away. It was filled to the brim with various pills I had stopped taking months ago. I didn’t even remember what half of them were for. I just remember I had stopped taking them. I probably stopped taking them after being prescribed over a dozen a day. Taking that many pills seemed wrong.

I thought about taking them again. They were prescribed for a reason, right? Maybe using them again would help, even if it has been a couple months.

I shook myself out of my stupor. My clock said 9:21 before immediately switching to 9:22. I shook my head some more as I left the bathroom. That was preposterous. Taking that many pills so suddenly would cause some definite damage. I didn’t want to be a part of it.

I went back into my study. I ignored the bookshelves and went straight to my desk. I looked through each of the drawers. I saw everything that was supposed to be there. Pencils, papers, erasers, even a set of pastels I use very occasionally. Seeing everything in place didn’t stop me from looking through each drawer a few times each.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I figured I’d find it, but deep down I knew that nothing new and interesting waited in the places I looked. I eventually resigned my search. I thought it’d be simpler to just pick up another book. I had made a chart that marked how recently I had read each book. That would make it easier to choose, because I’d only have to pick out of some of the ones I hadn’t picked up in months. My clocks said 9:57.

I looked at the list, and picked the one furthest up that hadn’t been scratched out. Then I scratched it out and wrote it’s title and the date at the bottom of the list. This page was full. I’d need a new one next time I read a book.

I read the book for a couple hours, but I didn’t remember much about it. It was refreshing, almost as if I had picked up a brand new book. I was glad for the change. I could quote an amount of these books with ease, and point out every literary element. I could point out the literary elements as I read this book, but I didn’t know exactly what they’d lead up to.  I enjoyed it.

My grandfather clock rang out at exactly twelve o’clock. I suppose that meant it was lunch time. I put a bookmark in my book, then went back to my kitchen to get lunch.

Making my best effort not to look at the knives, I made a simple turkey and cheese sandwich. I ate that one, then made another. They weren’t the most filling meal, but a couple could easily hold me over until dinner. My clock said 12:38. I noticed that I was seeing a lot of even numbers in the minutes place.

I looked at my legs, and realised I was still in my pajamas. I decided to go get dressed. I had no idea how I hadn’t changed after my shower. It was an unclean move. Oh well, a simple change should alleviate the issues I’m feeling.

I briskly walked back into my bedroom, and pulled a pair of jeans out of my dresser. Then I opened my closet. I looked at all of my shirts. I knew that nearly any of them would match jeans, but I still liked to take my time deciding on the shirts I wear. I looked downward in thought.

My eyes were bombarded with a large bundle of rope I had piled underneath my shirts. I had looked at this rope every day for the past three months. I didn’t even remember where I had gotten it. I just know that I didn’t like the thoughts that came with it. Still, just like every day, I stared at it and considered the possible uses for the rope. My clock said 1:12 by the time I had finished staring and thinking. I shook my head harshly, then grabbed a shirt and got dressed. I never knew why I wasted so much time staring at the rope.

I sighed as I left my room. This was the life I chose. I chose to just sit about my home for the rest of my life, relying on an inheritance I had received only eight months earlier. Day after day I had become more and more reclusive. I wasn’t cut out for anything anymore. I didn’t use my laptop and internet for anything but ordering some food online every now and then. The people who deliver my food were the most social interaction I did recently. I always held them for about twenty minutes of conversation before tipping them double the cost of my food.

I reentered my study and tried to read. My clock said 1:18 when I finally gave up on reading anymore. I had lost my interest somewhere along the line. I found myself wanting to do more. I wanted to have more. I wanted…

I wanted to be more.

I slowly stood up from the desk. I took 3 steps and was in the hallway. I gently shut my study door. A dozen more tentative steps, and I was at my front door.

I took a deep breath. I was going to leave. The sun shone lazily through my window. I placed my hand on the doorknob, and turned it. I lightly pushed the door open. It lifted itself open in a similar manner. I was finally leaving. I took my first step outside in two weeks.

My clock said 1:20.

Author: Kay Walker

I write short stories, and post them to my site justmynarratives.com

2 thoughts on “1:20”

  1. Many of these thoughts were relatable and I appreciate the order you laid them out. First story that I’ve read from you. Very nice.


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