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05: Distractions are Just Reminders

Sunlight seeped in through the window and cast its light on Kyle's eyelids. He winced at the brightness and covered his eyes with his hand as he sat up on the couch. A pain shot through his neck. He swayed his head slowly from side to side, letting the cramp tighten before relieving the tension. His eyes still adjusting to the light, he squinted at his wristband and tapped on the plastic. The display informed him it was six o'clock in the morning.

Kyle got up from the couch and sauntered over to the wide-open curtains through which the balcony resided. He grabbed both ends at the same time and glanced down at the streets below as if to remind himself that six o'clock in the morning was a time that actually existed. The sound of a buzz-saw permeated through the glass. Six tiny construction workers toiled on erecting a building nearby. Two other miniature people jogged across the street from the site, receding into the background with each step taken.

Closing the curtains, Kyle allowed the darkness to envelop the room. He returned to the couch and plopped onto it, causing it to slide slightly. The sound of construction lingered, and no matter how long he kept his eyes closed, he could not go back to sleep. He turned his body and stared at the ceiling. The white color appeared as a dull gray in the dark.

He lifted his wrist and swiped two fingers along his wristband. The transparent plastic changed to a navy blue color with small icons seeming to float millimeters above his wrist. Kyle tapped on a blue and white colored icon. The display changed to white and automatically lowered the brightness due to the darkness of the room. Text appeared next to names and photos of people, but what caught Kyle's attention were the two large numbers circled in red. He tapped the number thirty-seven hovering over a silhouette of the world. A small window emerged to show the people who sent their condolences. He swiped it away and decided to ignore the red-circled fourteen resting on top of the silhouette of an envelope. He slid his finger down the edge of the plastic to turn off the display and let his hands fall to his sides.

He rose from the couch and slid open a drawer underneath a table on the opposite side of the room. Three balls the size of oranges rolled to the front, bouncing off of several knickknacks and puzzle cubes. He picked up all three in his right hand and closed the drawer with his left. Walking to the middle of the room, he applied pressure to each ball for a couple of seconds. They each lit up bright red, slowly cycling between blue, green, yellow, purple, white, and back to red. Kyle bounced one off the ground two times. On the third, he bounced it harder and began juggling as it fell back down into his hand.

He had started juggling as a means of meditation a couple of years prior and had become quite good at it, despite that never being the intention. Beginning with a simple cascade, he counted from one to ten and back again with each catch. He then changed to a reverse cascade, switching between different techniques whenever he counted to ten. When he only used one hand, he let the numbers go higher. He was at forty-two when two balls collided against each other, bouncing one onto the couch and sending the other bounding down the hallway.

Picking up the ball from the couch first, he walked down the hallway towards the bedroom. He stopped at the doorframe and peered inside. A soft glow gleamed underneath the unkempt bed. Elizabeth's pajamas remained in the same position on top of the mattress where she left them the day she was taken to the hospital. Kyle turned around and walked away from the bedroom. He turned the lights off on the two balls in his hand and tossed them onto the couch.

He ambled over to the kitchen and grabbed Elizabeth's coffee press from the sink. Raising it to his nose, he sniffed at the remnant aroma of the last coffee she ever made. Kyle never grew to like the taste or smell of coffee, but this time the strong scent filled his lungs with lust and longing. He placed the coffee press on the counter next to the sink and walked over to the refrigerator.