| Mr. Smith went to work one day to reimburse his loans. He didn’t bother greeting any of the co-workers or the guard that day which was very rare when it came to Mr.Smith. He jogged over to the coffee machine and even the ‘bleep, bleep’ he heard made him anxious and annoyed both at the same time. Carrying his scorching yet bitter coffee, he began to march towards his desk. He almost tripped twice on his way to the desk. He knew something was off as he had no obstacles in his way and his shoe laces were most perfectly tied. He sat on his chair, leaned back and sighed excessively. He rested his head on the chair while gazing at the newly painted office ceiling. His eyes ached and teared up from the strong scent of new paint but he was not at all bothered nor did he care.|
He had no thought. His mind was like a good ol fashioned white canvas waiting to be stroked upon by paint. The day went by, emptiness still ruled over his brain. Each ticking moment felt like a thousand years. Everytime a coworker came by he felt quite frightened and jumpy. Something was askew;something unfitting. Everything in his work routine felt the same, yet it was not the same.He didn’t like what he felt that day, like his place in this world was melting away. He stared at the people passing by who seemed normal and the way they moved, the way they talked, even how they coughed was normal. He couldn’t understand what was happening to him.It was time to go home. He forced his feet to go,with a strange emptiness in his head,unable to shake off the foreboding feeling. As he walked along the pavement, strangeness followed his every step. Strangeness lurked around every corner waiting for the perfect moment to ambush Mr.Smith. The pavement overflowed with the crowd, yet he felt so alone. The air was filled with lively chatter and laughter but all Mr. Smith could hear were the eerie whooshes. He was surprised that no one heard or felt the same way he did. Did they have no feelings? Was it just an act? Questions wandered around Mr .Smith but he was unable to answer them. He finally reached home after his long yet dreadful walk.
He opened the main door, coldness and emptiness was all he felt. The house echoed from the high-pitched sounds of the jangling keys. The sun had set and it was almost night time. He went over to the parlour curtains and stared at the outside world. He felt that the shadows were uncanny and darker than before. The shadows were approaching him, he was frightened. He jumped back and tripped over to the sofa. His heart sank. He dared not to look out of the window again. He pondered over the harm shadows could cause to which his answer was, “ Shadows are just shadows and that there is no need to be afraid. Perhaps it’s the loneliness that’s making me afraid.” Night came by. He tucked himself into the bed. He wept under the sheets and thought what would become of his life. This was not his only sorrow but the fact he didn’t know what lurked in his tomorrow. He quickly fell asleep to his feelings of sorrow and desolation.
Morning came along. With the rising sun, the shadows disappeared. The flowers bloomed and Mr.Smith’s house smelled of pleasant fragrances. He felt freshness and hope for the new day as he got ready for work. Making an omelette had never felt so fun and easy. An aura of happiness surrounded him on the pavement. Listening to strangers’ chatters had never felt so enthralling and fascinating. His day at work was fulfilling. He completed all his tasks before time and was ready to go home. He enjoyed the cold breeze and colorful sky on his walk back. Unlocking the door to his house had never felt so relaxing yet comforting. He freshened up and sat on the sofa facing the window.
He thought about how dreadful the previous day had been and how the world felt normal again on the present day. He never knew what to say as he tried to flush his memories away. But deep inside he knew with dismay that he would never forget that very strange day.