Karl (4)

Here's the continuation of my story Karl. I apologize for all the exposition, but I kind of like it. Let me know what you think. All feedback (positive and negative) is greatly appreciated. 

4.

     When Steve awoke it was to the cacophony that was his digital alarm clock as well as to the disappointment that came with not getting a good night’s sleep. The sun had barely begun to rise over the trees that surrounded his apartment, and what little light filtered through served mostly to highlight the fact that he had not yet finished unpacking. The reality was that it had only been a few days since the move, and being fully unpacked would have been a feat worthy of mediocre greatness, but Steve didn’t like leaving things unfinished.

     In addition to the sarcastic alarm clock, now blaring a top ten song that Steve couldn’t stand, there was the issue of his cat. Normally he would have expected her to be pawing at her bowl and looking melancholy, but instead she was perched right on his throat, claws halfway extended, and purring in a sinister tone. “Easy there girl, easy,” he said, trying not to make any sudden moves, while also circling his hands around the cat’s back. She stared at him with murderous eyes, unflinching, and clearly displeased.

     His heart thumped fast in his chest, almost synching with the alarm clock that he dared not to reach for. In one sense he hated that his body would match up with such a wretched melody, but in the other, he was happy for anything to mask his fear from the angry huntress staring daggers at him. Steve exhaled quickly and did his best to toss the cat before she could fully swipe at him. The result was cursing his speed as the cat clawed angrily across his throat, and leapt deftly onto the dresser, sending the alarm clock shrieking to the floor. He hopped out of bed and accidentally smashed it with his foot, shooting plastic fragments all over the carpet.

     “What a lovely day,” he said to the cat, and stared out at the light drizzle that seemed to always be falling. As his mind came to alertness, he felt the army of insecurities beginning their morning attack. He took a deep breath and left most of them to lie on the bed while he went to his last bastion, the coffee maker. The cat followed him happily, hoping that she might be able to beg some food off of him before he went to work.

     You’re a loser, that’s why she left, cropped up into Steve’s head, and he pressed down the button on the coffee grinder, drowning out the thought with noise. As the beans split and turned to fine powder, their sweet smell replaced any negativity that could pervade his brain. However, this respite was cut short as he acclimatized to their smell and fell back to earth.

     It was with great melancholy that he dumped the grounds into the coffee maker, and only muted joy when he flipped the switch to ‘On’. He wondered how many times more he would flip that switch before his death, and whether or not each time he did so shortened his life. The science on coffee is so mixed. On one hand I might be losing weight and increasing brain power, but on the other hand is probably cancer. These thoughts were part of his routine, but they were stymied as he rounded the corner to his living room.  

     Once more the television had turned on and was displaying static. “Alright, I’ll take the hint. I’m going call the cable people on my lunch break today,” he said, assuming once again that it had been the cat that had turned on the TV. While the company had paid him to move closer to the office, they had not seen it fit to give him any time off, which meant that the setting up basic amenities had moved at a snail’s pace. As he went to turn the TV off, he felt an unsettling disquiet in the main room. It had come quite often after moving into the new apartment, and each time it stopped him dead in his tracks.

     Before any thoughts of wailing spirits crawling through the TV could take hold, he pushed the power button and hurried back to the kitchen. As he did so, he caught sight of the clock on the microwave and realized that his morning lamentations had taken longer than usual. He was not going to be late for work, but he was running far less ahead of schedule than he would have liked to have been, and this made him anxious. Steve poured the unfinished coffee (which wasn’t much) into his travel mug and put his shoes on. When he opened the door, rain blew in like a hurricane. He zipped his hood tighter and ran outside, completely unaware of the hazy silhouette staring at him from the living room.