Another Monday. Without fail the alarm clock chimed. Bill slowly opened his eyes. He couldn’t remember what happened to the weekend. He got up from his Italian designer bed and turned on the TV. It was the usual news. An excitable voice read the morning news about the conflict that’s been going on forever on Mars. Bill made his bed and walked over to his newly built kitchen. The coffee was already brewed and being poured as he approached the bench. It was the perfect temperature.
He sat down at his table with the mug of coffee and a bowl of low fat, low carb oatmeal with nut milk. At exactly seven forty-five, his blinds opened revealing the sun rising over Dante City. He got up and placed the bowl, coffee mug and spoon in the dishwasher. Bill tried hard to recall what he did in the last two days. It was a complete blank. He took a shower, put on his dark grey suit and walked out on to the street.
The entrance to the subway was only a block away. Platform one was packed with people staring down on their phones. He stood at his usual spot looking at his phone. The train arrived at eight fifteen on the dot. The ten-minute ride downtown was uneventful. He got off on the thirty fourth street along with half the train.
Bill tried hard to recall at least what he ate for dinner last night as he walked up the subway stairs to the noisy street. Total blank.
It was a usual Monday morning scene, pedestrians walking in all directions, car blaring their horns and protesters blocking traffic, demonstrating about whatever.
He swiped his access card at the foyer of his building, rode the elevator up to his floor, walked into his office and sat down at his desk. Arrived exactly at eight thirty.
Bill still couldn’t recall what he did over the weekend.