Splintered, A Chronicling of Memoria
Actuality - Out of the Blue
March 25th, a Monday
Alex – age 25
I woke up on that beautiful Monday morning, as usual 7:00 sharp. I yawned and stretched my arms with a good feeling for the day, ready for my first day at work. I stood up and walked into my kitchen, prepping the coffee maker, and then realizing my time was in sadly short supply. I looked at the filter filled with coffee grounds that I had ground the night before to save time, and looked at the mug next to it. I smiled as I took the filter and put it over the mug. I rested it there while I went and boiled some water in a pot, and when it was done, I poured it over the grounds. 7:13. The coffee was admittedly weak, but that wasn’t such a big deal, my main problem was getting to work, it was an hour commute on foot, and work starts at 9, I was most definitely not ready. I spastically ran into the bedroom, pulling on a dark blue pair of jeans, falling over with one leg in the air, and standing back up. The shirt I decided to wear for work was a nice lime-green button down, with a small insignia on the bottom left. I finished getting dressed quickly, putting my dress shoes into a small backpack, and slipping on my sneakers. As I walked out the door, locking it behind me, I saw the old man once again, and without meaning to I called out “hey prunes!” Excitedlt. I was mortified, absolutely mortified, but for some reason, he smiled at me with a happy and knowledgeable face that seemed to know all about life. He looked at me and opened his chapped and trembling lips.
“hello sonny, do you live here?”
I was confused because he sees me take a jog every morning, he’s always out here pacing, at least every time I’ve come through.
“yes, I live here.” I told him
“well its nice to meet you, my name’s Albert.” He said with a raspy voice.
I shook his hand and walked down the stairs, exiting the apartment, confused.
“he has Alzheimer’s….and short term memory loss…” a voice called out to me.
I looked to my right, and there was the landlady, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. She wasn’t what I had expected as a landlady from Aila’s stereotypes. Aila had said in a jaded opinion that my landlady would be “a big fat scraggy whore.”
“hes lived here since I took over, and he almost never leaves the hallway, only when he’s hungry, or has to go to the bathroom.”
“why does he pace so much?” I asked her, interested, though approaching the time that I should depart.
“I was just a little girl… my mom owned the apartments… I was playing in the hallway and I heard a thump, and ran over to him. He was on the floor, bleeding, but in a moment, he stood up, and started walking to his car…then shouted out. “Where am I going?” and walked back to his apartment. He came back out a few minutes later, holding his keys, and walked to his car again, but he stopped at the door again, and walked back into his room.”
I looked at her, she was almost in tears.
“He WAS my grandpa…now he’s just…no one.”
I walked over to her, leaning on the wall beside her and starting to wonder why this girl had opened up to me, I didn’t really know her. I moved in to give her a comforting hug, but was taken back when she thrust her lips onto mine. I closed my eyes, truly unaware of what was going on, or why it was, and as she backed up, her lips still puckered softly, she apologized and backed up, sincerely pleading for my forgiveness. She looked at me with the saddest look on her face… she looked lonely, truly lonely.
“I assume you know my name already…” I said, quietly, motioning toward her
She nodded quietly, licking her lips which looked chapped.
“Well, are you gona tell me yours?” I said at her with a smile
She was radiantly happy at my request, which was apparent when she uncrossed her arms and gave me a hug.
“Its Evelyn.” She said over my shoulder, holding me close. I couldn’t help but detach from her after a few seconds. I had found myself looking down her back, and her thong was staring at me awkwardly, forcing the male uncomfortable situations to arise. I backed up from her slender form, smiling at her, and beginning to speak
“if you ever want to talk—“
“I will…” she interrupted
I looked at her smiling face; she was gorgeous in this light. I thought for a moment I had made a mistake in flirting so bluntly, though I regressed into happiness once again after a moment. I looked at her flowing blonde hair, streaked with black, running down onto her back, covering parts of her tightly fit t-shirt. Her hair stopped just short of her Capri jeans, which were snugly attached to her thighs. I’ve never liked to think of anyone as perfect, but at that moment, in that light… Maybe for an instant. I turned from her after a moment of staring intently, and waved as I jogged away in my new sneakers. I could tell she was staring at my backside, it was as apparent as if she had walked in front of me, stopped me flat and said “I'm gona stare at your ass sir!” what a day so far… The jog to work was serene, Lavender Drive was Gorgeous in the morning, I had become accustomed to the chirp of the birds, and the hum of the first crickets. That was one of the better days I can remember, it was just so beautiful…everything seemed to be amazingly filled with life and happiness. I snapped into reality as I turned the corner onto Kearney Boulevard, seeing the office was a fine thing for me, quite the sight… a large beige brick building, with an arch in front. Splattered across the arch were the words “Alkrest Publishing.” I hadn’t heard of them before I got the job, but then again, I hadn’t heard of anything really, so that isn’t saying much. One thing that I had apparently retained through my amnesia was my memory of the world’s interworking, as in what you need to survive in live, like a job, money, all of the basics… but specifics were oftentimes hazy. Understatement… I opened the door to Alkrest, and walked right in, no reservations or jitters, I was ready to go. I was extremely happy with my job, which was to read the material that came in for publishing, and be the first check of many on the piece. I was also in charge of giving reports to the heads of the company about the book, telling them everything subjectively, opinions included. I walked into the back of the building, into my small office-like cubicle. I didn’t know cubicles could have doors… I sat down at the small oak desk in my office, and picked up a small brown envelope that was sitting on top of a glass writing surface. I opened it carefully, being tediously sure not to rip the brown paper. God only knows why. There was a small novella printed on normal white paper inside, entitled “The Ivy Crest”. Underneath this piece of writing there was a small note from my new boss.
Hello Alex, I hope you are ready for some serious reading. This job is going to have you bringing home a load of work every day. Hand what you finish to George Nathus, he’s in the next cubicle. As part of your job as the main literary judge for your department, you get a small bonus for every piece we publish that came through you with good graces. Good luck Alex, I hope you enjoy working here.
Sincerely,
Darion Salyer.
I smiled and lifted the papers, beginning to read quickly, as I often do, and I was almost immediately hooked on it. It was a love story, and a damn fine one at that. I enjoyed the 3 hours I spent reading its entirety. 283 pages… I stood up upon finishing it, yawning at my clock, seeing that lunchtime was soon. George’s office had a small plaque on its door, more than I could say for my little cubicle, which I had ‘affectionately’ nicknamed “the cell”. I opened George’s door, knocking on it as it swung open slowly.
“George?” I said, peaking into the room with a smile on my face.
Inside the door there was a bald man, with traces of shaved hair on the sides of his head. He was tapping his foot and bopping his head with his eyes closed. His headphones saw to the fact that he didn’t know of my presence. Somehow though, in an instant, the clock hit 12, and he stood up, opening his eyes, and falling back on his chair in surprise. I looked at him laughing as he pleaded for my identity.
“Alexander Moss.” I replied with a large smile.
“George Nathus.” He replied, shaking my hand with his muscular grip.
“lunch?” he asked
I looked at him, tilting my head slightly in confusion, then agreed and followed him out of the building. We walked down Kearney Blvd. in silence for a moment, it wasn’t at all awkward, just quiet.
“So alex, you’re my new first man? Good shit bro.” he said happily, putting his hands in his coat pockets.
“What do you want to eat man?” he asked, stopping at the corner and pushing the traffic light button with his leathery forefinger.
“I can go for anything, I'm starving.” I replied to him.
He nodded, and started walking across the clear, yet still green-lit street. We turned into a diner on the left side of Kearney. Facing south. The Diner was called “The
Breakfast Nook,” and appeared to be nice, though I wasn’t sure about their vermin situation, or the freshness of the food. At one point after we had seated ourselves, I thought I spotted a cockroach, but I was happily mistaken…it was a brown napkin crumpled up under shadow of a table, blowing with a man’s footstep. The waitress came over to us, but I tended to ignore people who didn’t address me directly.
“Alex!” George shouted, pushing my shoulder. “Order up bro, on me.”
I smiled at George, I was delighted to accept his offer, and so I ordered a hamburger, medium-well, lettuce, mayo, no tomato.
“anything to drink darlin’?” she asked, like the stereotypical waitress she was
“Just a water.” I replied with a smile.
The waitress walked away, and I swore for a moment that George was eyeing her, which was odd because I thought she was putred. She had the thick smell of smoke radiating from every skin cell, not to mention that she was wearing a skirt that was too high for her age… I cringe to think about it. I looked over at George, who was still looking in her direction.
“That’s Alice.” He said, turning to me and biting his right thumbnail.
“O….k…?” I replied hesitantly, not quite sure why he would be telling me of all people.
I thought about it for a moment…Alice??? That seems just a tad cliché… like a receptionist in a movie… She didn’t seem real to me; too fake looking, fake sounding, fake everything.
“I’ll be honest, your overly friendly, pal.” I said to him frankly
“Nah I’m not…I’LL be honest” he mimicked “I’m a douche.”
He laughed at his comment, obviously entertained by my ignorance in the subject of his behavior.
“Alice’s sister just broke up with me, but im not going to sob to a stranger.”
I shuttered to think what she might look like… though, maybe Alice got 99.9% of her father’s DNA, maybe shes just mannish. George pulled out his wallet, removing a picture of a blonde woman, black streaks down her hair, quite pretty…unexpectedly so, to say the least. He began to fidget with a sugar packet as he spoke again.
“She kicked me out of the apartment.” He said, looking up at me from his twiddling.
That day was moving exceedingly fast for my life… I had a chance at a new roommate for my apartment, but it was too soon to ask him in my opinion at that time… I already had enough emotional baggage to deal with…Amnesia and all. The conversation ended there...
Alex – age 25
I woke up on that beautiful Monday morning, as usual 7:00 sharp. I yawned and stretched my arms with a good feeling for the day, ready for my first day at work. I stood up and walked into my kitchen, prepping the coffee maker, and then realizing my time was in sadly short supply. I looked at the filter filled with coffee grounds that I had ground the night before to save time, and looked at the mug next to it. I smiled as I took the filter and put it over the mug. I rested it there while I went and boiled some water in a pot, and when it was done, I poured it over the grounds. 7:13. The coffee was admittedly weak, but that wasn’t such a big deal, my main problem was getting to work, it was an hour commute on foot, and work starts at 9, I was most definitely not ready. I spastically ran into the bedroom, pulling on a dark blue pair of jeans, falling over with one leg in the air, and standing back up. The shirt I decided to wear for work was a nice lime-green button down, with a small insignia on the bottom left. I finished getting dressed quickly, putting my dress shoes into a small backpack, and slipping on my sneakers. As I walked out the door, locking it behind me, I saw the old man once again, and without meaning to I called out “hey prunes!” Excitedlt. I was mortified, absolutely mortified, but for some reason, he smiled at me with a happy and knowledgeable face that seemed to know all about life. He looked at me and opened his chapped and trembling lips.
“hello sonny, do you live here?”
I was confused because he sees me take a jog every morning, he’s always out here pacing, at least every time I’ve come through.
“yes, I live here.” I told him
“well its nice to meet you, my name’s Albert.” He said with a raspy voice.
I shook his hand and walked down the stairs, exiting the apartment, confused.
“he has Alzheimer’s….and short term memory loss…” a voice called out to me.
I looked to my right, and there was the landlady, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. She wasn’t what I had expected as a landlady from Aila’s stereotypes. Aila had said in a jaded opinion that my landlady would be “a big fat scraggy whore.”
“hes lived here since I took over, and he almost never leaves the hallway, only when he’s hungry, or has to go to the bathroom.”
“why does he pace so much?” I asked her, interested, though approaching the time that I should depart.
“I was just a little girl… my mom owned the apartments… I was playing in the hallway and I heard a thump, and ran over to him. He was on the floor, bleeding, but in a moment, he stood up, and started walking to his car…then shouted out. “Where am I going?” and walked back to his apartment. He came back out a few minutes later, holding his keys, and walked to his car again, but he stopped at the door again, and walked back into his room.”
I looked at her, she was almost in tears.
“He WAS my grandpa…now he’s just…no one.”
I walked over to her, leaning on the wall beside her and starting to wonder why this girl had opened up to me, I didn’t really know her. I moved in to give her a comforting hug, but was taken back when she thrust her lips onto mine. I closed my eyes, truly unaware of what was going on, or why it was, and as she backed up, her lips still puckered softly, she apologized and backed up, sincerely pleading for my forgiveness. She looked at me with the saddest look on her face… she looked lonely, truly lonely.
“I assume you know my name already…” I said, quietly, motioning toward her
She nodded quietly, licking her lips which looked chapped.
“Well, are you gona tell me yours?” I said at her with a smile
She was radiantly happy at my request, which was apparent when she uncrossed her arms and gave me a hug.
“Its Evelyn.” She said over my shoulder, holding me close. I couldn’t help but detach from her after a few seconds. I had found myself looking down her back, and her thong was staring at me awkwardly, forcing the male uncomfortable situations to arise. I backed up from her slender form, smiling at her, and beginning to speak
“if you ever want to talk—“
“I will…” she interrupted
I looked at her smiling face; she was gorgeous in this light. I thought for a moment I had made a mistake in flirting so bluntly, though I regressed into happiness once again after a moment. I looked at her flowing blonde hair, streaked with black, running down onto her back, covering parts of her tightly fit t-shirt. Her hair stopped just short of her Capri jeans, which were snugly attached to her thighs. I’ve never liked to think of anyone as perfect, but at that moment, in that light… Maybe for an instant. I turned from her after a moment of staring intently, and waved as I jogged away in my new sneakers. I could tell she was staring at my backside, it was as apparent as if she had walked in front of me, stopped me flat and said “I'm gona stare at your ass sir!” what a day so far… The jog to work was serene, Lavender Drive was Gorgeous in the morning, I had become accustomed to the chirp of the birds, and the hum of the first crickets. That was one of the better days I can remember, it was just so beautiful…everything seemed to be amazingly filled with life and happiness. I snapped into reality as I turned the corner onto Kearney Boulevard, seeing the office was a fine thing for me, quite the sight… a large beige brick building, with an arch in front. Splattered across the arch were the words “Alkrest Publishing.” I hadn’t heard of them before I got the job, but then again, I hadn’t heard of anything really, so that isn’t saying much. One thing that I had apparently retained through my amnesia was my memory of the world’s interworking, as in what you need to survive in live, like a job, money, all of the basics… but specifics were oftentimes hazy. Understatement… I opened the door to Alkrest, and walked right in, no reservations or jitters, I was ready to go. I was extremely happy with my job, which was to read the material that came in for publishing, and be the first check of many on the piece. I was also in charge of giving reports to the heads of the company about the book, telling them everything subjectively, opinions included. I walked into the back of the building, into my small office-like cubicle. I didn’t know cubicles could have doors… I sat down at the small oak desk in my office, and picked up a small brown envelope that was sitting on top of a glass writing surface. I opened it carefully, being tediously sure not to rip the brown paper. God only knows why. There was a small novella printed on normal white paper inside, entitled “The Ivy Crest”. Underneath this piece of writing there was a small note from my new boss.
Hello Alex, I hope you are ready for some serious reading. This job is going to have you bringing home a load of work every day. Hand what you finish to George Nathus, he’s in the next cubicle. As part of your job as the main literary judge for your department, you get a small bonus for every piece we publish that came through you with good graces. Good luck Alex, I hope you enjoy working here.
Sincerely,
Darion Salyer.
I smiled and lifted the papers, beginning to read quickly, as I often do, and I was almost immediately hooked on it. It was a love story, and a damn fine one at that. I enjoyed the 3 hours I spent reading its entirety. 283 pages… I stood up upon finishing it, yawning at my clock, seeing that lunchtime was soon. George’s office had a small plaque on its door, more than I could say for my little cubicle, which I had ‘affectionately’ nicknamed “the cell”. I opened George’s door, knocking on it as it swung open slowly.
“George?” I said, peaking into the room with a smile on my face.
Inside the door there was a bald man, with traces of shaved hair on the sides of his head. He was tapping his foot and bopping his head with his eyes closed. His headphones saw to the fact that he didn’t know of my presence. Somehow though, in an instant, the clock hit 12, and he stood up, opening his eyes, and falling back on his chair in surprise. I looked at him laughing as he pleaded for my identity.
“Alexander Moss.” I replied with a large smile.
“George Nathus.” He replied, shaking my hand with his muscular grip.
“lunch?” he asked
I looked at him, tilting my head slightly in confusion, then agreed and followed him out of the building. We walked down Kearney Blvd. in silence for a moment, it wasn’t at all awkward, just quiet.
“So alex, you’re my new first man? Good shit bro.” he said happily, putting his hands in his coat pockets.
“What do you want to eat man?” he asked, stopping at the corner and pushing the traffic light button with his leathery forefinger.
“I can go for anything, I'm starving.” I replied to him.
He nodded, and started walking across the clear, yet still green-lit street. We turned into a diner on the left side of Kearney. Facing south. The Diner was called “The
Breakfast Nook,” and appeared to be nice, though I wasn’t sure about their vermin situation, or the freshness of the food. At one point after we had seated ourselves, I thought I spotted a cockroach, but I was happily mistaken…it was a brown napkin crumpled up under shadow of a table, blowing with a man’s footstep. The waitress came over to us, but I tended to ignore people who didn’t address me directly.
“Alex!” George shouted, pushing my shoulder. “Order up bro, on me.”
I smiled at George, I was delighted to accept his offer, and so I ordered a hamburger, medium-well, lettuce, mayo, no tomato.
“anything to drink darlin’?” she asked, like the stereotypical waitress she was
“Just a water.” I replied with a smile.
The waitress walked away, and I swore for a moment that George was eyeing her, which was odd because I thought she was putred. She had the thick smell of smoke radiating from every skin cell, not to mention that she was wearing a skirt that was too high for her age… I cringe to think about it. I looked over at George, who was still looking in her direction.
“That’s Alice.” He said, turning to me and biting his right thumbnail.
“O….k…?” I replied hesitantly, not quite sure why he would be telling me of all people.
I thought about it for a moment…Alice??? That seems just a tad cliché… like a receptionist in a movie… She didn’t seem real to me; too fake looking, fake sounding, fake everything.
“I’ll be honest, your overly friendly, pal.” I said to him frankly
“Nah I’m not…I’LL be honest” he mimicked “I’m a douche.”
He laughed at his comment, obviously entertained by my ignorance in the subject of his behavior.
“Alice’s sister just broke up with me, but im not going to sob to a stranger.”
I shuttered to think what she might look like… though, maybe Alice got 99.9% of her father’s DNA, maybe shes just mannish. George pulled out his wallet, removing a picture of a blonde woman, black streaks down her hair, quite pretty…unexpectedly so, to say the least. He began to fidget with a sugar packet as he spoke again.
“She kicked me out of the apartment.” He said, looking up at me from his twiddling.
That day was moving exceedingly fast for my life… I had a chance at a new roommate for my apartment, but it was too soon to ask him in my opinion at that time… I already had enough emotional baggage to deal with…Amnesia and all. The conversation ended there...