Rays of sunlight cut through the clouds, breaking up the dreary rainy morning. The roads were still wet, but the traffic was moving along at a nice pace. From the driver's seat he could see little Ann-Marie in the rear view mirror. Her pretty little face was scrunched up in a cute scowl. Smiling, he thumbed stereo controls on the steering wheel, activating the CD player. From the speakers her favorite song erupted.
"The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round...." he could feel the smirk from his wife, Sarah as she looked up from IPad, clearly giving him the "really?" look. He grinned and began singing along, off key and loudly. In the mirror he could see Ann-Marie's face brighten and began singing along. He could hear the 10 year old Sammie in the next seat snort in fake disgust, but she too began singing. Soon even Sarah was singing along in her soft husky voice. Smiles adorned each face as they moved back and forth to the beat of the song. The loud singing and the music was replaced by wails from a small woman and sirens.
The coil of the nightmare wrapped around his chest constricted tighter as he gasped for his breath, launching him up into the seated position on his bed. He sucked in hard trying the regain his breath from the nightmare that never seemed to go away. Michael Sawyer untangled himself from the bedsheets as he eased his legs over the edge of the bed, trying to calm himself. Soft pink light was starting to peak through the open curtains.
Sawyer dragged himself from the bed, the haze of the previous night's binge offset his balance, and he staggered to the small bathroom where he relieved himself.
He leaned over the sink and stared at the man in the mirror. Short cropped sandy blonde hair, highlighted with a few grays rounded off an oval face that had attracted a few women in his younger days. Deep green bloodshot eyes gave away that he had seen much through his forty-five years. He was still an imposing figure at a little over six foot, but his unwillingness to do more than exist had packed on the pounds. He rubbed the three days worth of stubble on his face, but found he didn't care enough to shave.
"Fuck you," he said in disgust to the mirror, and staggered back to bed.
--
Sawyer sat at the traffic light waiting for the light to turn green. His dark sunglasses concealed the bloodshot eyes. He had failed to go back to sleep, the dreams would always come back no matter how much he drank to forget. A horn broke him from his self-pity reverie, and he eased the truck into the parking garage. He found a spot on the second level near the elevators, even though it was against company policy he eased the truck into the spot.
He sat there for a few minutes sipping his coffee from the paper cup. No matter what he did, his thoughts always strayed to better times. Popping the plastic lid off the cup he leaned over the passenger side, reaching under the seat for the bottle of whiskey. His fingers brushed it further under the seat causing him to swear. After what felt like an eternity, Sawyer managed to retrieve the amber colored liquid. He looked hard at the bottle, thinking to himself that Sarah and the girls wouldn't approve of the way he was treating himself. But, they were gone, and he no longer care. Bitterly he swallowed his tears and opened the bottle, pouring enough whiskey to take the edge off, but not be noticeable. He tossed the closed bottle onto the floorboard, it clinked against the growing collection of empty bottles.
Sawyer took a deep breath and exited the truck. As he made his way to the elevator, two teens arrived at the same time as he did. Both were looking at a smartphone one was holding. They were giggling and pointing to something on the lit screen. They were dressed in shorty shorts, and tight tank tops, trying to show off what the gifts their mommas gave them. One gave him a quick once over, but she didn't even try to hide the sneer. With a ding, the door opened expelling several elderly couples, the men were weighed down with bags and boxes.
When the car emptied, he waived the two girls in and followed them in. The bolder of the two asked for the first floor, which he selected then pushed the basement button. He could hear the girls talking in hushed tones, probably about him. He ignored them up to the point that the elevator stopped at the first floor. He did admire the shapely asses as they exited the elevator.
I may not care about myself, but I am still a man
. He thought to himself. After getting off in the basement, he made his way to the security office.
Zoe was sitting at the desk writing in the log as he entered the office ten minutes late. She looked up from the book when the door opened, but blew out a snort when she saw his condition. He mumbled an apology for being late as he moved past the desk into the locker room.
Working the combination lock with his free hand, he popped the lock and swung the door open. Zoe entered the locker room as he was easing the crisp white uniform over his broad shoulders.
