My Little Shy

Every morning, I wake up to the dull sunlight through my window. My alarm clock plays the local news, usually going on about a new murder. I get up and head to the shower to wash my sleep away. When I finish, I head downstairs for a bowl of Life cereal. After that, I grab my car keys and drive my 2008 Honda to work.

At work, I type scripts for machines I never get to see. Execute command 1659000, Jump 5.32 c, Turn 60 degrees N, and so on and so forth. I never see a soul at work but the streets always have at least four people walking on the sidewalk.

After work, I would drive to the cemetery to thank my parents for taking care of me all those years ago. Then I go home, have dinner, and go to bed. I have no social life, and no one to talk to.

I never thought of what it would be like to have company at my house until one day, on my way home from work, I find a small cardboard box by the cemetery.