Hiding in Daylight

Chapter 4

The heat of the summer hung heavy in the air, suffocating and relentless. Beads of sweat glistened on Thorsten's brow as he sat slumped on a worn-out sofa.

The apartment was a shabby haven of solitude, its walls adorned with worn out posters of bands and movies. A solitary window, adorned with tattered curtains barely shielded the sunlight.

In one corner, a dirty rug towel lay covered in dust webs. A small table stood nearby, cluttered with empty bottles and half-eaten meals, some already changing color and developing a new smell. The wet ashtray was already overflowing, adding to the mixture that lay in the air.

Thorsten buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his sorrow. He had once dreamed of a better life, of adventures beyond the life of the ordinary. But now, those dreams lay shattered at his feet, lost to the passage of time and the harsh realities of life.

"Is this how life is supposed to be? What did I ever do to deserve such fate? How did it come so far? One year ago everything seemed to be fine. Why didn't this bitch didn't say anything?"
The memory of his worst day kept replaying over and over in his mind like a cruel mantra. Unexpectedly he had been laid off. Recession, they said. He got mentioned in a chain email, thanking him for his years of commitment and a standard sewerage package.

The sting of rejection burned deep, a reminder of his inadequacies and failures. He had poured his heart and soul into his work, only to be cast aside at a whim, disposable, replaceable and then forgotten.

And then there was her — Cleo, the woman who he thought he'd spend his life with. She was his world, believing their love to be unbreakable, only to have his faith shattered by her infidelity. He had noticed the increase of text messages she had gotten, but decided to trust her.

Now the image of her with another man haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. "I should have gone with Christian to the bar and gotten drunk. Who knows, maybe everything would have been different, hadn't I gone home so early."

He could still see the look in her eyes as she noticed him standing there, the hollow apologies falling on deaf ears as he struggled to comprehend the depth of her betrayal.

His stomach interrupted this self pity and reminded him to eat. He got up from the couch to check the fridge. He scanned the interior, looking for something edible. However, nothing of the scarce selection woke his interest.

He considered ordering some delivery and checked his wallet, only to find some measly cents. His eyes wandered to the collection of bottles he amassed. "Maybe I should bring them back to the market and cash in the deposits."

However he discarded the idea quickly again, not feeling the required motivation to get out. If he was honest to himself, he was also ashamed of his current appearance. None of his clothes were clean and the rest was in the washing machine, waiting to be taken out for three days.

He went to his desk, pushing away a picture of his mother, whom he had lost way too early. Now all that remained of her, was the picture in a frame, that never found its way to a wall. With a heavy heart Thorsten opened his laptop, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he braced himself. He logged into his bank account, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the deeply negative balance staring back at him.

Desperation clawed at him, urging him to find a way out of the financial abyss that threatened to swallow him whole. He scoured the internet, navigating through job sites with a sense of urgency bordering on panic. Each listing seemed more hopeless than the last, the qualifications beyond his reach or the pay laughably inadequate.

"Maybe I can find some survey or do some other online task to get a quick buck", Thorsten refused to give up. With a flicker of hope still burning within him, he delved deeper, his eyes scanning through page after page.