January 18

The sun had just dipped below the horizon leaving a sky of vibrant oranges, purples, deep reds, and fading yellows. The distant mountains were nothing more than silhouettes against the natural canvas of blended color. Neighborhood lights were beginning to take the place of the sun's illumination.

It was that time of day when only every fifth or sixth car on the road refused to acknowledge that daytime was over. People were leaving work and picking up kids from day cares. People were making their way to home to start the evening's routines; making dinner, watching television, proofreading homework for sons and daughters.

Two light-hearted beeps from the vehicle's horn as he walked away with the key less entry remote in his hand. The jingling of metal as he produced the ring of keys to unlock the front door which sat in a pool of yellow light from the nearest street lamp. The air was still and cold as he entered and flicked the light switch up, throwing a blanket of light on his living room.

As he walked past his computer, he pressed the space bar; throwing his appliance into a state of awareness and waking it from its sleep. Making his way to the kitchen, he let out a silent yawn and stretched his arms and arched his back.

The dark burgundy wine didn't make a sound as it silently poured out of the long neck and into the water-stained glass. A few bubbles made their presence known around the perimeter of the liquid's surface. Darker around the base of each bubble, but allowing the reflection of the fluorescent lights above to shine at the top of each rounded pocket of air.

He stood at the counter in deep thought as he sipped the dark liquid and let the bitter taste of grapes dampen his tongue. The events of the day were playing in his mind like a slide show of moving pictures. He saw the secretary in her white blouse with her back towards him making copies for his boss. Her long legs stared at him from under her black, wrinkle-free skirt. He saw the accounting reports on his desk reaching for the ceiling and daring a gust of wind from a passing co-worker to send them flying. He saw the empty space in the refrigerator where his lunch sat just two hours prior. He felt the anger grow in him that someone had taken his lunch and he would be forced, again, to eat at the inadequate cafeteria. The images played over and over again as if on a repeating loop.

Back in the present, he opened his own refrigerator hoping to find his sack lunch waiting for him with a taunting smile. It wasn't there. Just the unknown figure of a Chinese word printed in red on a white cube of folds and tucks. Orange chicken and fried rice from a week ago. Two minutes in the microwave felt like two hours as his stomach growled and wrestled with itself. He let the hot steam uncurl from the box and he breathed in its scent.

The computer had gone back to sleep. With his dinner on his lap and his wine on the desk, he awoke the machine again. No new personal emails. No news in the world of baseball. What was he going to write about tonight? He had so much on his mind, but he couldn't form the thoughts into words and the words into sentences. How could his mind be so crowded with thought and question and not be able to write anything?

Did he want to try something new with tonight's writing? Maybe try his hand at poetry. Maybe a fictitious short story. Did he dare write about the secretary's legs and the feelings she stirred in him every time she walked by? Maybe tonight would be a good night to write about the cretins he worked with that thought his lunch was up for grabs.

He could think of plenty of good topics to get off his mind, but didn't think they were appropriate for an audience he didn't know he had? What if the secretary read these posts? Unlikely, but still? He wanted the thieves to read, but then again, he didn't want to use this medium as a way to criticize. It didn't seem like the right way to express his feelings of frustration. It felt like a cop-out.

Another bite of left overs. Another slow sip of wine. Another blank stare forward. He still had no answers. Outside, a car drove by causing a dog to bark. A door in his unit slammed shut followed by heavy footsteps past his front door. The sun had retired completely leaving a sky of stars trying to outshine the lights of the city. He sat and stared without any progress.