Lilacs from the East

Chapter One

"I feel as though my mediocrity in novelty has become too much of a task to pursue." I said in soliloquy, although I did realize that my cat had left his solemnity from under the bed, so I was not completely talking to myself. Sighing, I walked to the door, receiving the mail, hoping for something intriguing, or just anything other than bills, and I was politely declined by fate, because I received nothing other. I discarded them, wanting to procrastinate my stress, though I knew I would double it completely by this action, and even though I had a million other things to attend to (cleaning) I decided to go to bed, still realizing I was pulling myself further and further into either bankruptcy or becoming a hoarder.

Though much of my sleep is mainly darkness, almost nonexistence, somnium erupted in my mind in a cloud leaving me in a paradox. My dream began in a haze, and became clearer throughout it's context.

I was standing on the corner of Ezra and Oakland Avenue, and the Art gallery that in a normal explanation would be located on Concordia and Farwell stood behind me.( I've found that very often my dreams occur in this state, where things normally located somewhere else tend to be in the wrong place)

Around me, Milwaukee( my home town, though I live in Seattle) was in ruins, and the sky full of orange-grey smog, making the scene seem almost post-apocalyptic. I studied my surroundings, and when my eyes were finally able to focus, the haze began to fade. A wind blew from the lake, and the eastern breeze smelled bitter, but sweetened and became like lilacs. It quivered away abruptly though, leaving a damp feeling that sunk into my skin. I focused on the street in front of me, and looked up at the store signs hanging out to the side so one might see them when driving down the street, one with lettering I could not understand, but a font I had seen once before on a jar of olives, one I couldn't quite recall, and another with a sketch of a type of herb that looked familiar, but I couldn't remember the name. I looked for a moment, but as soon as I got a good look, it became dark, and I began to fall into nonexistence again.

I didn't wake up right away after this dream, but slept on for what felt like a few more hours, but a perfect time for some relaxation, and for my subconscious mind to begin to comprehend what I had seen.

Darkness, and then more, but then suddenly, a burst of a screaming. An Awful shrieking, horrible noises, more spinning, and I was awake.

Squinting, I sat up, and glanced over to the clock, which read 3:56am. Dissatisfied with the fact that my biological clock would not set itself to another time, and knowing that even if I fell back asleep it would do no good because I needed to be at work at 7:00 anyway, I decided to get to work on my atrocious house, leaving it spotless( in terms of effort.)

I later showered, combed my hair, and put on my uniform for work at the King Street Train Station. Same routine every day, white button down shirt, black pants, and as quoted from my manager "Get presentable shoes or get out!" so, mahogany Allen Edmonds.

At 6:30, I left home for my shift at the station, walking because I live too close to have an excuse to drive, on Jackson Street. I normally enjoy my job, but was not looking forward to it today because of the fact that it was the slowest day of the week, and was virtually the only one important working, because though the others did show up, they were just getting through the day, while I did try my hardest to help people.

I arrived on time, and took my post at the ticket stand. Most of the time I only interact with 5 or 6 customers on Tuesdays in this job, because not only because not buying tickets online is becoming foreign, and the the day is, as I said before, extremely slow.

I waited and watched the few people I saw. A young woman with a worried expression and a whimpering child, a the usual man mopping the floor of whom I had never learned the name of. A teenager here and there, catching a train to run away and "find themselves", a few impolite business people who had missed a flight somewhere and "Absolutely needed to get get on the next train or else they would sue the station!"