There was no colour. The world became red and black until an aura of white pierced it, drawing me closer… closer.
The alarm clock buzzer rang out repeatedly, forcing me out of sleep. The clock was on my bedside table to the left of my bed. At the ninth chime, I stretched out my arm and slapped the large ‘snooze’ button. Five more minutes of peace, yet, I would not be able to continue that dream I was having. It would quickly disintegrate from my memory to be replaced by the realities of the waking world. My eyelids were heavy but it slowly dawned on me that it was important I wake up on time today.
My name is Erebus Occam. This is my story.
When I was ready I swung my legs onto the floor and sat on the edge of my bed. It was a double bed, blue duvet and pillows. My room was modest in size, but was large enough to accommodate a desk, a television and a wardrobe. Perfectly functional, my room was my sanctuary. Everything had its place and function, much like how I preferred my life to be: well ordered. Change didn’t suit me well.
I brushed my teeth and took a shower in my ensuite bathroom of green and blue tiles and silver fittings. As you can guess, I like the colour blue. Shower done in ten minutes, as it should be, I fixed a bowl of corn flakes from the kitchen and sat on my plush white sofa (okay I don’t like everything to be blue) in the lounge. I didn’t have a breakfast room. I lived in a flat in North London; it had just enough to keep me satisfied. I loved my lounge, it was spacious, I had enough room for a treadmill and weights and it looked great with the contemporary post-modern furniture I kept to impress people who visited. I had a large ‘vanity’ mirror hanging on the wall that drew me to it today, as I was keen to look tidy for my big day.
I looked in the mirror and I saw a man, fair complexion, short brown hair, a slightly prominent nose and a goofy smile. Tall, just over six feet in height and slim in build. Average albeit handsome guy, that was me in a nutshell. At least in appearance. I was somewhat eccentric, but I’ll tell you more about that later.
I had a job interview today, a sales and administration manager’s job no less. Yes, this time next week I would get the e-mail confirmation of ‘welcome aboard son’ or something. If everything, went well. Why wouldn’t it?
Put on my best (well actually second best) suit, added a final whiff of cologne and left the flat fighting fit for my interview with the jokers at this ridiculously named firm. I unlocked my bicycle from its stand and cycled leisurely through North London.
I was going to cycle to the headquarters of Brick and Brack’s upholstery in Wembley. The route was organised in my mind, having checked it plenty of times on the internet. I got a real buzz out of cycling in London. Nothing was like the feeling of the crisp Autumn breeze as you passed the loser pedestrians on the sidewalk and infuriated motorists late for work.
I heard the screech of a car’s brakes first. Then I hit the ground, hard. I lost consciousness.
