Loop

The alarm goes off at precisely 7:00. Jim waits three minutes and twenty-two seconds until a bird starts pecking at his window. He allows himself a smile before tossing his sheets aside.

A forgotten can of shaving cream wobbles twice as the door shuts. Hands repeat the same familiar motions: Listorine, deodorant, a length of floss to pick out that stubborn piece of kale. He squeezes all the toothpaste into the sink and shrugs.

One other man is waiting on the Eastbound platform. A pidgeon flaps up to an I-beam.

“Good morning, Craig.” Jim says.

“Hi… sorry, do I know you?” Craig says.

“Not exactly,” Jim shakes his hand and pulls him forward a step. “Just wanted to wish you luck on that presentation tomorrow. I’m sure Elaine is going to love it.”

“Well… thanks.” A squirt of droppings narrowly misses Craig’s shoulder. He doesn’t notice.

As Jim enters the office, the elevator light flickers for a moment. 8:23. The receptionist’s head is bent over a crossword. Jim gives him the answer to a particularly hard word and makes his way to the water cooler. Frank and Carolyn have just reached his favorite part of their script.

“She tore right through my curtains! I swear, I should have had her de-clawed.”

“I said the same thing–“

“…About your ex-wife?” Jim finished.

“I’m that predictable?”

“Call it intuition. Bless you.”

Carolyn sneezes. They both look at Jim with wide eyes.

Sara catches him on the way to his cubicle. He follows a quick script and, without missing a beat, pulls her in for a long kiss. She pulls away, shocked. He finishes the script and ignores the dozens of eyes on his back as he leaves the building.

He spends the rest of the day at his favorite bar. A pipe clangs like a churchbell. 3:55. He settles up and runs through a script with the bartender. He laughs at the right jokes and accepts a free drink. He buttons up his coat and leaves at precisely the right time.

Jim arrives in Central Park just as golden hour sets in. He catches the girl with pigtails just before she trips on her shoelace. He sits in his favorite spot and listens to his favorite scripts. A goose gives three calls. He tilts his head up.

The night is cold, but dry. Jim closes his eyes and waits for the only snowflake in the city to fall precisely onto his tongue.

The alarm goes off at 7:00. Jim waits three minutes and twenty-two seconds and is greeted with silence. His breath catches. Bedsheets are tossed aside. He glares out the window. It’s different. The clouds are different. The people are different. Even the buildings have a different cast in the light.

The shaving cream does not wobble when the door closes. A pile of toothpaste waits for him in the sink. He stares at the green mush for a long time. He tries to slow his breathing as his hands perform familiar motions. He checks his teeth in the mirror but that damn piece of kale is finally gone.

Jim walks to the train station in a daze. The world has lost its rhythm. The hot dog cart on the corner smells different. A pidgeon flies right past the I-beam. Craig is nowhere to be seen. He checks his watch for the first time in eternity. Tomorrow is finally here.

The office is different, too. The receptionist is playing solitaire on his PC. The same faces populate their cubicles, but their expressions are guarded. No one will meet his eye. The cooler sits alone. He takes a cup with trembling fingers. Even the water tastes different.

Alice calls him into her office. She starts asking questions. About his private life. About the bar. About Sara. He tries to answer but doesn’t quite know how. He doesn’t remember what it’s like, to talk without a script. He’s given a warning and sent back to his desk. It takes him a long time to remember how to do his job.

Central Park is chaos. Hundreds of strangers crowd the paths and fill the air with unfamiliar conversation. The performers sound wrong. The girl with the pigtails is gone. He finds his favorite spot and closes his eyes to ride out the waves of nausea.

“Hi, sorry…” A voice from behind. Jim starts. “Did I meet you on the Eastbound yesterday?”

“Oh, Craig. Hi. I… I guess so.” Jim doesn’t move.

“Well, Elaine liked my presentation. In case you were wondering.”

“Right! Good. That’s really good.”

Craig nods. Jim nods.

“May I join you?” Craig asks. Jim makes room.

Craig sits with Jim until the sun sets. Jim doesn’t know what to say, but Craig doesn’t seem to mind. A snowflake falls. Jim reaches out his tongue and misses. He sighs.

“Don’t worry,” Craig says. “There’ll be others.”

And there are. One and then another and so many more. Jim weeps until the tears freeze on his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Craig asks.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”