Every morning, 6 o’clock sharp, the citizens of The Greatest Town In The World – the best town you will ever live in – awake to the chirping that rings around their home, by the wooden bird that leaps out from its home. They get out of their tidy bed, smiles constantly worn, and begin their day, beneath the cloudless skies.
The smell of freshly cut grass wafts into the nostrils of John Smith as he exchanges his daily greetings with his neighbours, his kids bumping past them on their way to school. The act breeds dopamine in his system, his smile widening as they head off. As John commences his daily commute to the Ouroboros Financing Foundation (OFF), he sips on a warm brew of liquid energy, with the lingering nuttiness permeating through his tastebuds. As John always says, “You can’t start the day right, without a coffee in hand.”
Upon arriving at the OFF, John enacts his routine round of salutations, before situating himself into the sea of grey cubicles he is so fond of. The cathartic sounds of typing, as it mingles with the ticking of a clock, creates a lullaby, almost sending John into a deep slumber, if not for his heroic coffee. As the day unfolds, John’s gaze is robbed by the humming of one of his coworkers. How peculiar. John thinks. The action sows seeds of unease into the soil of his mind. His hands become clammy, with the bounce of his leg shaking his world. John hastily grasps his coffee, the comfort envelops his tongue, as he re-centres himself. As the day drawls, the humming is glued to his brain. Why was he humming?
That night, John enters his home harbouring the anxieties from his day and is met with a ‘loving’ embrace from his wife and kids. But now that it’s 9 o’clock, it’s time for the
citizens of The Greatest Town In The World to succumb to the moon’s rays and fall into a soothing slumber. Let’s hope John has restful sleep, for he is sure to need it tomorrow.
Awakening from his slumber, John commences the usual procedure, however his guts suspicions begin to overflow, making his movements sharp and his senses in tune to any disturbance or derailment from the norm. As John meticulously begins to craft his morning brew, the coffee grounds, that are always situated in the top right-most cabinet, are missing. He hurriedly scours the corners of his kitchen, finding his coffee grounds, concealed behind his collection of cereals, in the top left-most cabinet.
Immediately, John’s heart begins to palpitate, causing his body to recoil into a ball. He is now a mere baby deer, stunned before the prospect of his coffee grounds moving. As John sits on his kitchen floor, he steadily regains his composure. After surveying his surroundings, he notices the unfazed smiles adopted by the members of his family. It is as if they sit on a predetermined track, where all abnormalities go unnoticed. John calmly sprints into his bedroom and lies down in the reassuring caress of his pristine mattress.
His mind races to draw a logical conclusion, an explanation, a reason for why, or how. Before realising that he himself is currently straying from the norm, contradicting the set path he must follow like clockwork. And yet here he is, lying on this bed, gazing into the hypnotic pattern that his ceiling fan makes. He is defective. The thought caused his body to convulse. That can’t be right, this can’t be, right? Tears welled up in his sockets before trickling down the crevices in his face. Looking for any form of solace, John reaches for his saviour, his coffee. It breathes heat into his freezing heart, and births lustrous waves of comfort for John. But now, he is a pane of glass, with only the adhesive of coffee to bind him together. Without it, he will shatter. Thus, he consumes cup, after cup, drinking waves of coffee, until the sun goes to sleep, and the moon awakens.
It is now 9 o’clock. It’s time for the citizens of The Greatest Town In The World to enter into their daily slumber, but here in your average home, identical to those in the neighbourhood, you find your average man, clutching a mug, while rocking back and forth in the foetal position, wide awake. John truly is an anomaly.
His eyes wide open from the rush of caffeine coursing through his veins. His bowels panging from the overdosage. John then stumbles towards the rim of his toilet, contorting his head into the bowl as the contents of his stomach leap out. His mind wonders as he is put under a spell that causes the bathroom to spin, closing his eyes in an attempt to stabilise himself.
However, upon opening his eyelids, John’s body collapses under his weight, his limbs stiff, and muscles soft. He is like an old doll, that’s attempting to move for the first time in years. The patter of rain, and stroke light, descending from the heavens, illuminates various miscellaneous vials. Green, blue, pink. John’s mind becomes a blank canvas as his surroundings leave him in a state of perpetual insanity. Where am I? What’s happening? Is this real? Pulling himself up onto a protrusion in the grey wall, John attempts to grasp his location, sighting a city blank of emotion, behind the steel poles that encage him to this room. There is no sign of life in that city, only the green hue that emanates from the myriads of mechatronics that inhabit it. A gaseous sedative then hastily pours out from the vents in the room, forcing John to an orchestrated slumber. Thus, restoring the mistake that we’ve made. He will now live with the knowledge that he has led and will continue to lead a fabricated life of falsehood until he draws his final breath.
I must say, what a beautiful form of torture.
