Thursday August 10th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the globetrotter.

Definitely starting to feel the lack of sleep lately today. My third day on tends to be the hardest day to get through in general though.

Back to cleaning the fire hall tomorrow. I think I will appreciate the air conditioning and being out of the smoke.

And! Looks like we might finally be getting some rain and cooler temperatures this weekend. Not something I would have expected to be happy about in August, but here we are.

Mine:

My alarm drags me kicking and screaming away from a dreamless sleep. It's a ringtone I don't recognize, which means it's my first morning in a new city. Anything to bring a touch of order to my chaotic life.

So, where am I? Madrid? Montreal? Milan? It's one of the M cities, I'm fairly certain. Looking around my hotel room doesn't help jog any memories so I stumble to the window and throw back the curtain.

Ah, Mexico City. Right. Well, at least it's not Moscow again. Not that I'm convinced they would let me back there after that last mix up.

Okay, I know where I am now. So... what am I doing here? Meeting someone, obviously. That's what I do everywhere I go. Who is it? Man or woman? Age? Business they're representing? Come on, brain. Give me something to work with.

I close my eyes and an endless stream of faces appears. Friends, colleagues, taxi drivers, strangers. They all intermingle and jumble together and...

I open my eyes before they merge into one, hideous monstrosity of a human being that never has and never will exist. I've seen that horror too many times in my sleep recently. I don't need it to haunt my waking hours as well.

Right. Who is waiting for me in Mexico City? Better check my phone. Where did I put it before I collapsed into bed last night? It's not on the bedside table. Not in my jacket. Not in my duffel bag. Not... anywhere.

And my wallet seems to be equally absent.

Great. I've been robbed.

Again.

1 Comments:

Greg said...

When you were working in an office was Wednesday also the hardest day, or was it Thursday? I'm just wondering if it's a three-day thing or a one-more day before the weekend thing :)
Rain and cooler weather always gets approval from me, as you know, and it's nice that you're in agreement -- just not so nice that it's because of smoke and fire.
Hmm, this is interesting, and the character is intriguing as well, especially with the memory lapses and the seemingly important need to remember who he's meeting and what he's doing. I would definitely like to know more about this guy and his life; he seems like he's got a lot of stories to tell, even if he remembers them badly!
Continuity error for you though: at the start his alarm is ringing and its a ringtone, but at the end his phone is missing, presumed stolen, so... what was using a ringtone as an alarm?

The globetrotter
My alarm drags me kicking and screaming away from a dreamless sleep. It's a ringtone I don't recognize, which means it's my first morning in a new city. Anything to bring a touch of order to my chaotic life. I slap my hand in the general direction of the noise and things go flying onto the floor. I curse, refusing to open my eyes for a few precious seconds longer, and then I open them and sit up.
The curtains are undrawn so I must have been drunk when I got in last night. There are... counting heads two and counting feet three... people in bed with me. I'm in no fit state to decide whether I'd prefer headless or legless right now. Thankfully I'm on the outside, so I struggle free from a thick duvet and pick up -- oh hell, four phones from the floor. What was I doing last night? I'm, yes I'm definitely naked. Oh crap. I'll just go shower and maybe the water will help me remember things.
Thankfully there are no more people in the bathroom or I'd have to wonder if I'd started making questionable life decisions again, like the one that led to me getting the recipe for Chicken Tikka Masala tattooed in 6pt lettering inside my left elbow. Though that has come in useful twice so far.
The water is blissfully hot and as it expunges a sense of uncleanness my brain starts to work a bit better. I flew out of Rio yesterday heading West and landed in Singapore in the early hours of the morning. I have four days here and then it's down to Sydney, and after that Christchurch. Then I wait for an earthquake, and after that I'm moving on to Easter Island, and I hope to the seven hells that it's a shorter stay there this time than last time. Those heads are just creepy.
As I get my itinerary sorted out other things come back into focus and people start joining me in the shower. I remember I've got a briefcase stashed in a locker at the airport that contains the Periapt of Lodi, and in my phone -- a burner -- I have McArthur's number. That's strictly for emergencies. I have a meeting today in a restaurant on the 28th floor to talk to some people for whom time is more of a commodity than a curse, and... and I killed an angel which is why I left Rio. You'd think that would have left more of a memory really.
When the fifth person comes into the bathroom I must look startled. She blushes.
"I was sleeping in the wardrobe," she says. "There was more room." She looks at the mass of bodies in the shower. "Room for one more?"
I nod. Easter Island is going to be lonely: the memories of this will keep me company while I'm there.