Asleep.
Fading in and out of the dream world.
He blinked slowly, once, twice.
He propped his head up just a little to look at the clock by his bedside, it was five minutes past ten.
The bed felt so soft, so comfortable, almost heavenly.
His signed copy of Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' lay beside him, he'd been putting it off for over two months now; 'Tomorrow', he muttered to himself.
Feeling a little lightheaded, he sat for a few moments on the bed.
He slipped into the shower, letting the cold water flow over his skin; it had a soothing effect on him.
A fresh set of clothes was ready and laid out on his bed for him to get into.
Sometimes he wondered what he'd do without his mother.
His food was waiting for him, piping hot, on the table; he wolfed it down hungrily.
A quick glance at the to-do list on the fridge was enough for anyone to tell how unproductive his week had been, all but one of the boxes was unticked.
Rob was a lazy man, he didn’t deny it either.
Files lay strewn across the floor, waiting to be attended to, waiting to be sorted and organized.
He ignored those, sidestepping them as he opened his front door and stepped through.
Letters, piled up into stacks, sat beside his front door.
He sighed, as he took in a few gulps of fresh air while maintaining a respectable pace.
The train sped through the twelve stations, eight of them underground, in less than twenty minutes.
If there was one thing Rob loathed the most in life, he thought to himself as he stood in front of the enormous gates of the glass building, it was his job.
He carefully adjusted his tie ever so slightly to the left as he passed Emma's desk, flashing her a fake smile and a thumbs up signal.
She glared at him, never mind.
He gave a slight nod to Lisa.
At his desk now, he booted up his workstation; “0 new mails”, it proclaimed.
Slowly, he got up and walked to the store room, there he fixed up his usual cup of coffee: no milk, no sugar.
He sat at his desk, staring at the clock on the wall across the room, almost as if trying to will the hands to move faster; they stared back at him defiantly, seemingly moving even slower than before.
He sat there with a smile on his face, an expression betrayed by the defeated manner in which the rest of him slouched.
Sighing as he looked at the pile of reports in front of him, he shook his head free of any treacherous thoughts that could distract him; “I will not give up, not just yet”, he said to himself; There were still thousands of pages left to go through.
This was not his dream.
This was not part of the plan.
This was not where he wanted to be.
He looked back at his desk, towards the photo of Anna clutching onto a newborn Chris, flashing the broadest smile imaginable; “Do it for them”, he said aloud to no one in particular.
And the hours went by.
He looked back at his desk, towards the photo of Anna clutching onto a newborn Chris, flashing the broadest smile imaginable; “Do it for them”, he said aloud to no one in particular.
This was not where he wanted to be.
This was not part of the plan.
This was not his dream.
Sighing as he looked at the pile of reports in front of him, he shook his head free of any treacherous thoughts that could distract him; “I will not give up, not just yet”, he said to himself; There were still thousands of pages left to go through.
He sat there with a smile on his face, an expression betrayed by the defeated manner in which the rest of him slouched.
He sat at his desk, staring at the clock on the wall across the room, almost as if trying to will the hands to move faster; they stared back at him defiantly, seemingly moving even slower than before.
Slowly, he got up and walked to the store room, there he fixed up his usual cup of coffee: no milk, no sugar.
At his desk now, he booted up his workstation; “0 new mails”, it proclaimed.
He gave a slight nod to Lisa.
She glared at him, never mind.
He carefully adjusted his tie ever so slightly to the left as he passed Emma's desk, flashing her a fake smile and a thumbs up signal.
If there was one thing Rob loathed the most in life, he thought to himself as he stood in front of the enormous gates of the glass building, it was his job.
The train sped through the twelve stations, eight of them underground, in less than twenty minutes.
He sighed, as he took in a few gulps of fresh air while maintaining a respectable pace.
Letters, piled up into stacks, sat beside his front door.
He ignored those, sidestepping them as he opened his front door and stepped through.
Files lay strewn across the floor, waiting to be attended to, waiting to be sorted and organized.
Rob was a lazy man, he didn’t deny it either.
A quick glance at the to-do list on the fridge was enough for anyone to tell how unproductive his week had been, all but one of the boxes was unticked.
His food was waiting for him, piping hot, on the table; he wolfed it down hungrily.
Sometimes he wondered what he'd do without his mother.
A fresh set of clothes was ready and laid out on his bed for him to get into.
He slipped into the shower, letting the cold water flow over his skin; it had a soothing effect on him.
Feeling a little lightheaded, he sat for a few moments on the bed.
His signed copy of Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' lay beside him, he'd been putting it off for over two months now; 'Tomorrow', he muttered to himself.
The bed felt so soft, so comfortable, almost heavenly.
He propped his head up just a little to look at the clock by his bedside, it was five minutes past ten.
He blinked slowly, once, twice.
Fading in and out of the dream world.
Asleep.
Fading in and out of the dream world.
He blinked slowly, once, twice.
He propped his head up just a little to look at the clock by his bedside, it was five minutes past ten.
The bed felt so soft, so comfortable, almost heavenly.
His signed copy of Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' lay beside him, he'd been putting it off for over two months now; 'Tomorrow', he muttered to himself.
Feeling a little lightheaded, he sat for a few moments on the bed.
He slipped into the shower, letting the cold water flow over his skin; it had a soothing effect on him.
A fresh set of clothes was ready and laid out on his bed for him to get into.
Sometimes he wondered what he'd do without his mother.
His food was waiting for him, piping hot, on the table; he wolfed it down hungrily.
A quick glance at the to-do list on the fridge was enough for anyone to tell how unproductive his week had been, all but one of the boxes was unticked.
Rob was a lazy man, he didn’t deny it either.
Files lay strewn across the floor, waiting to be attended to, waiting to be sorted and organized.
He ignored those, sidestepping them as he opened his front door and stepped through.
Letters, piled up into stacks, sat beside his front door.
He sighed, as he took in a few gulps of fresh air while maintaining a respectable pace.
The train sped through the twelve stations, eight of them underground, in less than twenty minutes.
If there was one thing Rob loathed the most in life, he thought to himself as he stood in front of the enormous gates of the glass building, it was his job.
He carefully adjusted his tie ever so slightly to the left as he passed Emma's desk, flashing her a fake smile and a thumbs up signal.
She glared at him, never mind.
He gave a slight nod to Lisa.
At his desk now, he booted up his workstation; “0 new mails”, it proclaimed.
Slowly, he got up and walked to the store room, there he fixed up his usual cup of coffee: no milk, no sugar.
He sat at his desk, staring at the clock on the wall across the room, almost as if trying to will the hands to move faster; they stared back at him defiantly, seemingly moving even slower than before.
He sat there with a smile on his face, an expression betrayed by the defeated manner in which the rest of him slouched.
Sighing as he looked at the pile of reports in front of him, he shook his head free of any treacherous thoughts that could distract him; “I will not give up, not just yet”, he said to himself; There were still thousands of pages left to go through.
This was not his dream.
This was not part of the plan.
This was not where he wanted to be.
He looked back at his desk, towards the photo of Anna clutching onto a newborn Chris, flashing the broadest smile imaginable; “Do it for them”, he said aloud to no one in particular.
And the hours went by.
He looked back at his desk, towards the photo of Anna clutching onto a newborn Chris, flashing the broadest smile imaginable; “Do it for them”, he said aloud to no one in particular.
This was not where he wanted to be.
This was not part of the plan.
This was not his dream.
Sighing as he looked at the pile of reports in front of him, he shook his head free of any treacherous thoughts that could distract him; “I will not give up, not just yet”, he said to himself; There were still thousands of pages left to go through.
He sat there with a smile on his face, an expression betrayed by the defeated manner in which the rest of him slouched.
He sat at his desk, staring at the clock on the wall across the room, almost as if trying to will the hands to move faster; they stared back at him defiantly, seemingly moving even slower than before.
Slowly, he got up and walked to the store room, there he fixed up his usual cup of coffee: no milk, no sugar.
At his desk now, he booted up his workstation; “0 new mails”, it proclaimed.
He gave a slight nod to Lisa.
She glared at him, never mind.
He carefully adjusted his tie ever so slightly to the left as he passed Emma's desk, flashing her a fake smile and a thumbs up signal.
If there was one thing Rob loathed the most in life, he thought to himself as he stood in front of the enormous gates of the glass building, it was his job.
The train sped through the twelve stations, eight of them underground, in less than twenty minutes.
He sighed, as he took in a few gulps of fresh air while maintaining a respectable pace.
Letters, piled up into stacks, sat beside his front door.
He ignored those, sidestepping them as he opened his front door and stepped through.
Files lay strewn across the floor, waiting to be attended to, waiting to be sorted and organized.
Rob was a lazy man, he didn’t deny it either.
A quick glance at the to-do list on the fridge was enough for anyone to tell how unproductive his week had been, all but one of the boxes was unticked.
His food was waiting for him, piping hot, on the table; he wolfed it down hungrily.
Sometimes he wondered what he'd do without his mother.
A fresh set of clothes was ready and laid out on his bed for him to get into.
He slipped into the shower, letting the cold water flow over his skin; it had a soothing effect on him.
Feeling a little lightheaded, he sat for a few moments on the bed.
His signed copy of Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist' lay beside him, he'd been putting it off for over two months now; 'Tomorrow', he muttered to himself.
The bed felt so soft, so comfortable, almost heavenly.
He propped his head up just a little to look at the clock by his bedside, it was five minutes past ten.
He blinked slowly, once, twice.
Fading in and out of the dream world.
Asleep.
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