5 Days a Week.

       The woman woke up with a start. She rubbed her head
and peered over to the silhouette of a motionless body
next to her. She kicked off the comforter and stepped
onto the soft rug, letting her silk nightgown fall to
her knees. The bedroom was dimly lit and the smell of
sour wine coaxed her awake. She went into her living
room and opened the heavy curtains and her sliding
glass door that led to the patio. Alice let the wind
comb through her morning hair and smelled the
freshness and pure scent of the night. The clouds
floated above the lit up city giving the effect of
shimmering ghosts. She stood there for a moment and
let her troubles float away.
       John laid in slumber on the bed. Slowly dream faded
into consciousness. A high pitched beeping sound
pulled him into day and he let his heavy hand fall
onto the alarm. He sat rubbing his eyes and yawned. He
was ready for another stress filled day that he craved
and walked through the bedroom to the bathroom through
the streaks of light that came in through the windows.


       Morning began and Alice was busy at the stove when
John came in. He wore a freshly ironed black business
suit and a gray patterned tie. He smelled the sausage
and coffee that awaited him and kissed his girlfriend
on the cheek. She smiled and gave him a plate of
breakfast and a cup of coffee. She loved the little
things he did and proceeded to fix his tie.
        John mustered some patience to fulfill the same
routine he and Alice went through each morning. He
stood there waiting until Alice was pleased with how
his tie looked. She always
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pushed his tie up until he couldn’t breathe. Until his
patience was about to burst out of him.

       “ What time are you going to be home?” She asked.
       “ The usual time,” he said. A little annoyed.
       “ Ok. What do you want for dinner?”
       “ Let’s make chicken tonight,” he said, as if he
cared.
        John went to the door and wiped his mouth, ready to
end the familiar interrogation.
       “ Great,” she said.
       Alice secretly longed for the night to come. She
loved to cook for him and then sit and relax in his
arms.
       “ Ok, see you around six, love you,” he said as he
opened the door.
       “ Bye, love you t-”
       Slam; Alice’s words were drowned by the door slamming
after John.
       Briefcase in hand, he walked down the carpeted hall
to the elevator. He was used to the normal routine. He
pressed the ground floor elevator button and moved
when the bell sounded. It was automatic; walk out of
the elevator, turn right, walk three parking spaces
and get into the car.   It seemed worse each day. Maybe
because had he dreamt it was gone last night. Maybe
because he convinced himself that it wasn’t that bad.
The traffic always killed his mood in the mornings. He
wished he could fly above the suffocating mass of cars
and honking cabs. Finally he arrived at work, he
stepped out of his car and into the concrete parking
lot and let the echo of engines and faint voices
surround him. Peace.
       Alice let the silence fill her as the door shut. She
moved to the kitchen to finish her routine. Clean,
take a shower and go to work. Like so many others in
the business world, she moved automatically. Alice
grabbed her purse and keys that were by the door. She
looked at
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herself in the mirror for the final time, looked
around the apartment and left. She marched down the
hall and to the elevator with determination to face
whatever happened at work that day.

       Alice walked into her office. Folders needed to be
filed, random office supplies were scattered about her
desk, post-its were everywhere and papers laid askew.
She went over to her chair and plunked herself down
still holding her purse and keys.  She turned her head
to the window. Her office had a view of the city; a
jungle of people scurrying themselves along through
the maze of people, cars honking and traffic lights
that seemed to stop everything. The day was crisp and
clear. It was September and the leaves were golden and
red. No haze was in the way of Alice’s favorite past
time, people watching. Painting a fantasy life for
people and dipping into their lives for a moment was
only a ten second relief from her painful job. She
watched the people passing by, seeing their breath
turn into steam and wondered how their life compared
to hers. She already wished it was six o clock. She
sighed and looked back to her office where a tornado
of papers, people running in and out of offices and
fingers flying across key pads awaited her. Alice
rolled her eyes and blinked, hoping it was only a
nightmare. She tipped her double shot of espresso and
drained it.
       John sipped his coffee that Alice made him and
skipped into work. He grabbed his mail from his
secretary and gave her a wink. His day had now
started. He flipped through the mail looking up once
in a while to say hi to fellow coworkers. On the
twenty-first floor he felt more at home than anywhere
else. Work gave him an opportunity for achieving more.
He worked for a corporate investor and “the sky was
the limit” as one of his bosses had said. He sighed at
this thought and stretched in his leather seat.
Looking out of his office, he smiled to himself and
put his hands on his head. He was
comfortable where he was in his career and turned his
head to the stack of papers in front of him.
3

       “Hello, I’m home!”  The girlfriend said at the top of
her lungs.
       “Hi Alice,” John said as he winced.
       “How was work? What happened today? Did you bring
something home for dinner? ” Alice said.
       Ugh Damn it. John thought. All he wanted to do was
kick his feet onto the table and watch television
without Alice interrupting Brian Williams reporting
the headlines or his favorite hockey team, the Boston
Bruins, struggle to defeat the Toronto Maple Leafs. He
wanted to watch how the Boston Bruins could turn their
three to zero loss around in the third period. Maybe
next time.
       “Work was fine, Alice. Nothing more than the usual.
How about you?” He said as he turned the television
down.
       Alice gladly vented her day to him and thanked God
she had someone to keep her from going off the deep
end. Her work took up most of her life and caused her
allot of unneeded stress. She often wondered if it was
all worth it.
       “.....and then my boss came to me with another stack
of papers to file. Doesn’t she get that I am not her
fucking secretary?!” She asked, as if John could
answer her pressing question.
       This was his cue to calm her down.
       “Alice, calm down,” he said
       Alice took a deep breath and laid her pea coat over
the couch and pushed up her black turtle neck sleeves.
She kicked off her black closed toe heels and waited
for another opportunity to talk about her day with
John. John turned up the television. Alice was forced
to turn her head towards the luminescent screen. Home
was her sanctuary. The richness of the wood, the
feeling of letting her stress flow into the leather
couch as she slumped into it and John’s voice, carried
4
 her through the torment of life.

       “You’re fired,” said John’s boss.
       John’s stomach dropped.
       “Your company is not useful to us anymore,” the Boss
continued, reaching for the door.
       ‘Your company is not useful to us anymore’? I’ve
worked so hard for this company. Are you serious?!
.... John rubbed his head and loosened his tie. He
leaned on his cold glass desk and crossed his arms.
The door had already shut by the time he realized the
reality of the situation.

       John carried a cardboard box filled with his personal
items that he never dreamed of having to carry until
the tropical sounds of paradise and retirement called
him out of his office. He stared bitterly down at the
smiling ceramic happy face that read “World’s Greatest
Boyfriend”. He didn’t look up at his friends and
coworkers, but made his way through the departments.
The elevator bell sounded and he just stood there as
the doors opened, not moving a muscle. He was
wondering and dreading what Alice would say when she
got home. Anger built inside him. His black shoes
crashed sharply onto the ground every time he thought
her and his boss’s lack of sympathy. He opened the
apartment door and threw his stuff down.

       As was wondering how much vodka he should poor into
his martini glass, he heard Alice’s high heels. The
sound became louder and louder until he heard her
struggle with her purse and keys and other various
items outside of the door. He could only feel
apprehension when she managed to open the door and
began to yell, “I’m home!”.
       “Johnny? What’s wrong? What happened at work today?
What do you want for dinner?” She asked when she saw
him slumped on the couch holding the large bottle of
alcohol.
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       “I’m not hungry.”
       “Why aren’t you hungry? Did you have dinner already?
Why didn’t you call me? I
wouldn’t have bought all this food. You know how I
don’t like wasting food.”
       John didn’t respond.
       “John? What’s wrong with you? Since when did you
start drinking hard alcohol? Why don’t you just let me
cook you something to eat? Where did you go for
dinner? Who did you go with-”
       “Alice stop!” John said abruptly as he sat holding
his head. “Do you really want to know what’s wrong? Or
did you just say that to make your conscience feel
better?”
       “No, I just thought you didn’t want to talk about it
since you didn’t answer me.”
       “Well, every things wrong. My life is over. I got
fired from my dream job. I’ve never felt so...lost in
my entire life and I have you to deal with on top of
everything else. I’m done.”
       They stared at each other for a minute. The air
thickened. The wind carried through the door and the
curtains danced around the door frame. Alice dropped
her stuff where she was standing and walked over to
the couch. She sat on the edge of the cold leather
next to him. She fiddled with John’s tie that was
thrown over his briefcase.”
       “What did you mean we’re done?” Alice asked.
       “I didn’t say that, Alice.”
       “You meant it.”
       “No I didn’t”
       “Yes. You did.”
       “Ok fine. You know what Alice that’s the problem with
you. You always think, talk and worry about yourself.
You never consider me or us. It’s always about you.
You think someone says something to offend you and
then you come to me with your problems.”
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       “Do you love being such a sadist, John? Hm? I always
try to pry, I mean talk, about your
 life and you never want to talk to me. How do you
think I’m supposed to feel?”
       John poured himself a full glass of vodka and took a
gulp. The alcohol burned in his throat, but it felt
better then hearing Alice talk. He got up and started
to pace around the apartment.
       “Alice.” John coughed out. “You're supposed to feel
confident in yourself and stop telling me your
annoying stories about work each day. You know what,
you deserve all your pathetic worries and difficulties
in life. You never stop to care about anyone else.”
       Alice gasped. It sounded like one of those fake soap
opera gasps, but it had very real emotions.
       “That’s not true”, she staggered out.
       “It’s not is it?” John said looking up at her.
       “No, it’s not”, she was tearing up. She sounded and
looked like a child defending what little pride she
had left after some bully had knocked over her
carefully built sand castle.
       “Really.”
       John got up and finished off his glass of vodka. He
set it on Alice’s carefully cleaned counter and put
his shoes back on. The closet was still open and he
grabbed a jacket. He purposefully and a little
regretfully walked down the hall. He knew that he had
killed something inside of Alice, but hoped that
somehow she could heal her emotional wound without
him. He was free and the air never smelled so sweet.

        John never came back. Not even to get his things.
She waited on the patio and looked down every few
minute to see if he was standing on the porch with a
bouquet of flowers. Night came and she knew it wasn’t
a dream. He had left her. The city was glowing through
the haze.
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 There was no wind to blow away her tears so she
finished off the last glass of the bottle of Pinot
Noir. She staggered into the apartment and closed the
sliding door. The apartment was quiet.  Alice was left
alone to heal herself in time for work tomorrow.