A burst of life. It was like something you'd hear during a nature film, with water flowing off the riverbed, into a nearby pond. Eventually the camera would pull back, revealing the lush spring greenery that surrounded it. Quintessentially perfect.
He let his body relax as the moments passed. His shoulders drooped and his back began to lurch. His jaw hung, gaping wide. Finally, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he took one more satisfying breath.
He flushed the toilet afterwards.
He had been holding it in for the past six hours. Not for any reason in particular, he was just too lazy to walk to the bathroom. Too lazy to walk the length of his apartment. An apartment that couldn't have been more than a thousand square feet. It's not like the door was closed, either. Even when he occupied it.
He stumbled around in a daze, his belt unloosed and the zipper of his jeans still undone. After several moments, he finally collapsed on his couch, moaning as he futilely tried to push pieces of pretzels from underneath him. Luckily, no one was there to witness this abhorrent sight, as he lived alone.
He reached for his phone on the adjacent coffee table. No new messages. No voicemail from the landlord demanding the rent. No text from the law office informing him that he didn't get the job. The bank didn't even forward him a picture of them denying his loan with one of those cool red stamps. He resigned his head and shut his eyes.
An hour passed, he lifted his head. Saliva stuck to the red leather of the couch's armrest, while he fought to open his mucus-lined eyes. He couldn't have been less aware of the ineptitude on display though, in fact, there was a large crack in his oddly-shaped mug.
Blinded by the light that reflected from its clear plastics, he slowly dropped from the couch to the floor. An appropriately submissive pose to pay homage to the assortment of his greatest treasures, his immense riches, what he revered most highly of all - his collection.
Composed of five enormous auburn shelves, his collection housed his cherished findings, only the rarest, the most desirable. Every single piece having been neatly organized and meticulously ordered over the course of the past few years. It was the ultimate source of prestige for him, what he used to judge himself among all others.
He slowly rose as he centered on the crown jewel of his collection. God only knew how many hours he had spent gawking at it. Admiring its mold, its luscious paint job, its imposing size, its countless points of articulation. His lips trembled as he whispered its name...
The Grey Baron.
He spent a significant portion of his youth searching for it. Whether on the rack of the Children's aisle at Target or the ninety-ninth result page on the internet, he checked everywhere. His quest finally came to a close in a beat-up old brown box at a garage sale. The old man literally gave it away. One of the only eight produced.
He ran his hand slowly over the exterior shell of its box. Drawing a deep breath as he stared into its sculpted eyes. Made in Taiwan, it was perfect. After a short moment of silence he moved on to inspect the other parts on display, but not before bowing his head in reverence.
He lost track of time while passing by each segment. His nostalgic gaze slowly inspecting and worshipping each one. His face inches, only inches, away from their sanitized containers. The lavish attention he poured into his collection gave to something else though. Unlike a parent, he couldn't over look his child's flaw.
A fault in his set-up. A blue lined box was next to a green lined box, creating a visually unappealing aesthetic. This would not do.
He looked at his pristine Gary Chen action figure. Mint condition in its box. It was placed right next to Mrs. Lana Chen. Also mint condition in its box. He liked that their boxes were placed right next to each other. It made sense from a continuity standpoint. They were married you see.
