i'm shaken out of my thoughts by the loud ringing of my phone.
i roll over, grumbling in protest, answering the phone with a groggy
"hello?"
"dude, where are you?! you were supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago. manager's pissed"
the frantic voice of my coworker sounded from the other side.
i groaned, looking at the clock. i overslept.
"um. i'm running late. i'll hurry." i said dumbly, too tired to make up an excuse.
"no shit? i'll tell him you're almost here. you better get here soon" my coworker sighed, hanging up.
i slipped out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom. i stare at my reflection in the mirror. i noticed that my eyelashes are longer than i thought. it makes me look especially feminine.
i don't really look into the mirror often. i don't feel the need. i already know what i look like. maybe not as much as i thought, however.
i run a comb through my hair and brush my teeth with haste, remembering that i'm running late. throwing some clothes and shoes, i stepped out into the fresh, early morning air. i began to walk in the direction of my workplace.
my phone sounded again. i answered it, this time sounding more alert,
"where the hell are you?!" the shrill voice of my manager startled me.
"i'm almost there, sir" i replied, quickening my pace.
"you better be. this is the second time you've been late this week. two times too many. i'm tired of your disrespectful, lazy ass showing up so late. i ought to fire you. be lucky we're short staffed-" he went on while my mind roamed about.
i thought about my eyelashes. my neighbor with the loud dogs. the new cafe next to my apartment. my mind finally wandered to the place. the beach. the soft sand. i immediately felt at ease thinking about it.
i was brought back to earth by the sharp, piercing voice
"are you even listening to me?" coming from the other end of my phone.
"oh- yes. sorry sir.." i stuttered.
"look at you. not even able to give a proper excuse. i have no idea why i even hired you-" my manager mumbled, just loud enough for me to hear.
i stepped out into the street, counting the lines as i crossed, blocking out the string of insults coming from my phone.
"one.... two.... three...." i counted, whispering the numbers to myself.
i was cut off by the ear-splitting sound of a truck's horn blaring, and the screech of brakes.
i felt a huge force slam into me, knocking me over.
my head slammed the concrete, but i didn't feel pain. all i heard was ringing, ringing, ringing.
my vision slowly faded to black.
