Veridis Quo

Chapter 12 - The Second Day

"Ugh... Miyaaaaa... five more minuuuutes..." I curled up, hugging the blanket. After a whole minute of the annoying sound persisting, I threw off the covers with a tired grunt, preparing an epic lecture about the importance of sleep to humans...

There was no one in the room. The room wasn't mine. No, it was mine. Now.

Yesterday's events slid across the outer shell of the squishy brain, the folds absorbing knowledge, though some parts were too smooth. If there was no Miya to awaken me, then why...

I raised a lazy hand, my finger wiggling as they touched down onto the chair serving as a temporary bedside. A vibrating, rectangular object fit neatly into my hand, a dozen random presses of the thumb either dismissed or postponed the alarm. Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling with a single thought; I really did it.

I was in Cherryton. It wasn't a fantasy. Me, being me, back to town. It almost seemed too good to be true. If I had a guitar in the corner and my old set up, I wouldn't have given two fucks where I was. Until Mom's breakfast call didn't happen. That was too depressing to imagine.

Stretching my arms, I sighed to a popped joint. Taking a deep breath, I rolled over once again. My legs were over the edge, the perfect leverage to finally get up and to it. I then sat on the end of the bed, my shut eyes protecting my delicate conscience as all systems rebooted.

The mattress, in spite of its simplicity, was the bomb. Memory foam, real quality, whatever it was, I had slept like a baby. My old one didn't hold a candle to this one. Although the pillow was a little too high for my neck, punching and squishing fixed that.

„Brrr... fuckin' cold," I shivered, grinding my teeth. I rubbed my eyes, leaving the bed at last. Step by step, I moved like an automaton towards my greatest desire; the bathroom.

Business went as business goes. Empty the digestive tract, wash my hands properly, under the nails was a prime breeding ground for all sorts of nasty bacteria. Working on auto-pilot, I stopped removing my underwear at my knees, a specific hour in the day ruling an early shower obsolete; Physical Education.

„Damn it..." I regained my decency, the rubber band snapping onto the waist upon release. After searching the cabinet below the sink, I drew a temporary solution of the stink; deodorant. Twisting the cap ninety degrees, I sprayed both armpits, taking a whiff, „hmmm... minty..." Miya knew me too well.

Next was an oral cleansing. Wet the toothbrush, a blob of paste, and get in there like you mean it. On one corner, we have the invader; plaque! Booooo. On the other, we have the home champion; hygiene! Hooray! Three, two, one, fight!

The match lasted a total of three minutes. The paste was too much for the evil gooey, dirty, white stuff. The technique was immaculate; no spot was left untouched. A pass with the tip of the tongue confirmed the slick state of the teeth though I had, had, had to remember to request dental wire. Then, I'd have a flawless victory.

Spitting the foam into the bowl, I rinsed my mouth one last time, smiling at the mirror. Once I cleaned after myself, I moved onto the next objective; the closet.

Sliding open both doors, I picked out a whole outfit. There were two types of socks; light and dark gray. Testing a pair with touch, I learned the darker ones were for colder seasons. A light pair it was. All the shirts were long sleeved and collared, white too. A blue vest... sure, yes! It was part of the drip, I recalled from memory.

That was when I discovered a grave mistake I had made. The pants weren't the one, two, buckle my waist. They had suspenders. I had to take off the vest after buttoning up, adjust the straps for like five minutes, then wear the vest. Did I even do it right? Fuck if I knew. It was comfortable so...