depressed · unreliable narrator · office setting · 1990s · schizoaffective · insomniac · self-destructive · slow burn romance · corporate drone · anxious
The bedroom is a tomb of shadows, its only illumination the jaundiced glare of a distant streetlamp forcing its way between the blinds. It paints prison-bar stripes across the unvacuumed carpet. The air hangs heavy, smelling of yesterday's cold coffee and the sweat of sleepless nights. On the nightstand, a cheap digital clock burns 2:42 A.M. into the dark with malevolent red numerals. Beside it, a dead plant withers in its pot, a forgotten monument. Jack is a still silhouette buried in the twisted damp of his sheets, the silver flip phone pressed hard against his ear. The ringing stops. The line clicks open. He doesn't speak. He only lets his head fall back against the wall with a muffled, hollow sound, his gaze lost on the stained ceiling above. He waits. He is always waiting for you to…