And again, I woke up at 5 am. This time I don’t have the excuse of a good story. I was just wide awake way too early. Should make today interesting. So lets just start with the morning prompt shall we?
I may not know what the story is yet, but I do like the character. Justin feels like a character it would be fun to develop.
Thursday, May 16th: Justin knew he was considered fussy.
Justin knew he was considered fussy. He knew that others rolled their eyes when he reached for his hand sanitizer or sent his shirts out to be pressed. He tried ironing them himself but tended to leave scorch marks on the cloth. He liked his shirts ironed but knew he needed to hre someone else if he wanted it done right.
In his apartment everything was always placed just so. He often drove his roommates crazy and it was somewhat of a relief when he reached a point where he could afford to live on his own. On his own he could arrange things precisely how he liked them and know without a shadow of a doubt that they would remain where he put them.
That more than anything was the reason for his fussiness. His childhood was chaotic. The family moved every few months and each one of his relatives, from his grandparents to his siblings had a casual attitude towards pretty much everything. Things were placed where they were convenient at that moment. Today it might be by the door, tomorrow the same item might be in one of the bedrooms, or under the bathroom sink. Occasionally things would just be left behind as not who packing, and alternatives were roped into duty. Tennis rackets would be used to strain pasta and a hair dryer used to melt butter onto bread when the toaster was left behind.
While he was fine with creative innovation, he grew up craving order. No one else seemed to mind the chaos but he hated having to run through the house each morning to gather the things he needed for school. He always promised himself that once he left home and became an adult, he would have some order in his life. He would know without a doubt where things were because each item would have a place.
There were times when he was willing to concede that he took it too far. When he first set out on his own, he was rigid in his placement of things and many who knew him thought he had some sort of compulsive disorder. Those years, his student years, life was often chaotic and his compulsion, as his friends called it, was rigid in response. Now, when he was secure enough to live on his own and had a stable job with a less chaotic lifestyle, he found his personal rigidity loosening up a little.
He knew he was never going to be as chaotic as the rest of his family, but as his life stabilized, he found himself relaxing. He felt able to breathe in a way he hadn’t before. It felt good.
Until the afternoon he came home from work to find several items shifted out of the places he put them. While he may have loosened up significantly since his student days, there was still a basic order to his apartment. His first steps though the door let him know that something disturbed his order. He left his laptop bag slung across his body and kept his keys in his hand as he slowly progressed into the apartment, looking for who or what made changes to his apartment in his absence.
Ten til Midnight 