-5-
a little while

I felt the cold steel as I stared at it and slowly turned it around in my hands. It would have been such an easy way out, but I could have bet a lot of credits on the fact that I would be able to give it to every person out there at night as an escape, but they wouldn’t use it; misplaced opportunities to die. I put the blade back into the drawer and walked over to my desk to check my schedule for the day. I needed to do only one pick-up today; a weekly planned one. So that would not be of any great trouble to my mind today. I have been to the company over a dozen times and knew the way over there by heart. I could drive it with my eyes closed. Sometimes I regained consciousness at their main entrance and realising it was a Thursday morning, with absolutely no recollection of how I possibly got there. I didn’t suffer from insomnia, sleepwalking or any hallucinogenic disease. It was all just a part of me distrusting myself with fixed schedules. You simply lose your touch with that. You lose your edge. And that’s just what you need to hold on to; your senses turned to maximum. You need every inch of your body capable of feeling anything crossing its path that might be of harm to it. Every sinew must be in touch with the brain. You must be able to react in such a way that it seems natural; boneless distraction, with the strongest possible attitude. You just know how cold they’re going to react. It requires some degree of practice, but once you’ve got the hang of it, you’re able to get you to the status you probably wouldn’t even want to have, since you bothered to lie in the first place. It all raises a general question of sincerity. But would you want to grand their wishes? Would you like to rest in their hands? You would serve your own uselessness by wasting what you were actually meant for. Maybe I’d get addicted someday and be able to say that it was myself by whom I’d been scarred for life. I straightened my black tie, put my ID-card into my breast pocket and gave myself one last look in the mirror. Again a desire found in glass, being merely a reflection of me. My keys were still in the jacket that I hung over the kitchen chair when I got home last night. The front door sounded with a silenced ‘thud’ as the locks shoved into their place. The sun shone heavily into the normally dim-lit corridor towards the small elevator. As I walked towards it I thought to myself I shouldn’t forget to write down tonight’s reservation at Tom’s. It would be a shame to let that go to waste. I had a craving for their Cesar salad, which proved that my stomach was fairly stable again. But it wouldn’t be until tonight before I’d taste the salad. With this in mind I walked over to my car and got in using my ID-card. The traffic wasn’t busy at this time of the day. Since I implied on the non-standard schedule I had to be at the pick-up late in the morning. I was early and my head a bit clouded still. Although I tried harshly to make myself think my head was pure with thoughts on today’s pick-up. I turned my head towards the silence and watched the highway underneath me. Yesterday’s taste was slowly growing on me.