YABSS Part 3
Glen wandered east up the block across from the building toward a bar he frequented in years past hoping to grab a nice steam-table sandwich and a pint before hopping the bus back home. Would it still be there? What do you think? No, it was gone. Replaced by a Starbucks, of all things. How typical. Disappointed Glen headed back toward the building and as he walked he noticed how much the street had changed. There wasn’t a single deli or coffee shop or dollar store or drugstore or Hallmark shop or anything, anything at all where he remembered it. He had just been in the office for the initial meet and greet a few weeks before, was it possible things had been different then and he hadn’t noticed? Glen hadn’t worked in this neighborhood at the job he held the previous five years so he thought it was possible things had changed that much and he just hadn’t noticed a few weeks earlier. Not getting any younger, Glen thought.
Well, our man Glen was right on with that observation. He certainly wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.
Glen headed back west past the offices of his new employer and found a diner. He sat down at the counter and ate what turned out to be a very disappointing roast beef sandwich and nearly tasteless fries. In fact everything seemed to taste less like anything at all. Glen was musing about this on his walk back to the bus stop and he noticed that in fact all of his senses seemed less acute than normal. The city seemed muted somehow and colors seemed indistinct. “Probably the weather” he thought. “Better get home and get this project rolling”.
Which Glen did. An uneventful ride home was followed by three hours of work, a light and still off-tasting dinner and a few hours staring at the television trying to work up the tiredness to sleep. The older you get the more difficult it seems to be to sleep on schedule, he thought. He poured himself a nightcap of bourbon and water and sipped it slowly. This’ll help, Glen thought. And it did. Glen’s eyes drooped once, twice, his head nodded forward and his body sunk deeper into the recliner.
Glen dreamt of swimming. Swimming long distances at night, mainly underwater but somehow he was able to breathe underwater. The dream went on longer than most dreams ever do, climaxing in a dive into an underwater cave. Glen swam deeper, ever deeper and the cave got narrower and narrower and suddenly a light appeared at the end. Glen swam into the light and suddenly felt like he was losing his mind. A sensation of pure panic overtook him as every shred of memory disappeared and lost control of his limbs. He felt them flailing and twitching while at the same time his memory started to go. “My name is Glen, my name is Glen, my name is Glen “he repeated, trying to hold onto some shred of identity. “My name is
“My name”
“Muh na”
“Man”
“Mmmmm”
Glen, or rather the now memory-less, uncoordinated mass that used to be Glen screamed.
“Congratulations Mrs. Marx. It’s a girl”.
The doctor handed the screaming child to Mrs. Marx. She smiled, exhausted from the rigors of childbirth.
Well, our man Glen was right on with that observation. He certainly wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.
Glen headed back west past the offices of his new employer and found a diner. He sat down at the counter and ate what turned out to be a very disappointing roast beef sandwich and nearly tasteless fries. In fact everything seemed to taste less like anything at all. Glen was musing about this on his walk back to the bus stop and he noticed that in fact all of his senses seemed less acute than normal. The city seemed muted somehow and colors seemed indistinct. “Probably the weather” he thought. “Better get home and get this project rolling”.
Which Glen did. An uneventful ride home was followed by three hours of work, a light and still off-tasting dinner and a few hours staring at the television trying to work up the tiredness to sleep. The older you get the more difficult it seems to be to sleep on schedule, he thought. He poured himself a nightcap of bourbon and water and sipped it slowly. This’ll help, Glen thought. And it did. Glen’s eyes drooped once, twice, his head nodded forward and his body sunk deeper into the recliner.
Glen dreamt of swimming. Swimming long distances at night, mainly underwater but somehow he was able to breathe underwater. The dream went on longer than most dreams ever do, climaxing in a dive into an underwater cave. Glen swam deeper, ever deeper and the cave got narrower and narrower and suddenly a light appeared at the end. Glen swam into the light and suddenly felt like he was losing his mind. A sensation of pure panic overtook him as every shred of memory disappeared and lost control of his limbs. He felt them flailing and twitching while at the same time his memory started to go. “My name is Glen, my name is Glen, my name is Glen “he repeated, trying to hold onto some shred of identity. “My name is
“My name”
“Muh na”
“Man”
“Mmmmm”
Glen, or rather the now memory-less, uncoordinated mass that used to be Glen screamed.
“Congratulations Mrs. Marx. It’s a girl”.
The doctor handed the screaming child to Mrs. Marx. She smiled, exhausted from the rigors of childbirth.
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