A Sisyphean Requiem

Like any other morning trying to prove its existence in this god forgotten part of the universe, the legions of grey shade were soon replacing their darker siblings. And like a shy maiden a pale ray of sunlight struck through the horizon barely emitting any significant heat. A crow cries for the unknown as it dashes across the city line in an attempt to complete the recurrence of such a melancholy and glum moment. An attempt that was loud enough to wake Frank up. At 42 Frank Leigh never tried to hide the marks time left on his ancient face, even as his hand reached out to turn off the squealing alarm, erosion was evident. Struggling to fit in his slippers, he finally manages to reach the kitchen, scratching his eyes as if hoping he’d wake up to a different day. Everything looked the same, even the factory smoke across the horizon. It just reminded him of yesterday, the day before and so on. But change was never really a necessity in this world, in fact It was considered a crime if it reached a certain extent. After a rather tedious drive he reached the colossal monolithic building he works at, ironically the building was never occupied by anyone else except him. But those were the firm’s policies and discontent was never an option.
Reaching for the door knob, Frank felt a bit dizzy and he almost fell if it wasn’t for the door itself. “What could it be?” he started wondering. “A suspicious cold? Or a sign of something greater that is yet to come?” He quickly ignored these doubts, as he pushed the heavy door and took the two sets of stairs leading to his office. A strange empty sound echoed in the corridor as the keychain hung from his hand in air. Many were identical and others just looked so bizarre. Every move he took brought him closer to his daily routine, a routine that seemed never ending after 20 years of devoted service. The moment he inserted the key, the lock’s mechanism clicked and a huge clock right above the door started ticking. Across the dark damp room were six wall clocks each pointing to a different timing, and again as usual the daily stack of papers resting on the old bulky desk. The task was simple; he had to stamp all the papers in front of him with an OK sign as told by his superiors. Superiors he never met but only managed to hear from through the bulletin board system that has grown to become a communication umbrella covering the entire country. When the first clock pointed to 8:00 Frank started stamping in a rhythm, unaware of anything else but the stack of papers in front of him. Every time he pounded the table a pale fading red OK would be left behind as his hand took off. This seemed the only way frank has ever managed to live and exist as part of the society, a society that did its best to banish all anomalies, and frank did what this society deemed best for him; stamping.
But the air felt different today, it was somewhat suffocating him. Every time he slammed the stamp a burden grew heavier on his back. Every time the clocks pointed to a new hour something crawled up his neck, he could feel it like needles driving through the flesh and digging deeper. “What is this?”Frank murmured “what sick sorcery is inflicting such a gruesome change?” slowly he puts his hand on the back of his neck and starts massaging it with his knuckle, a habit he got accustomed to since he was a child. It seemed to be relaxing but he knew his foe is waiting somewhere in the room. Hiding and lurking in one dark corner planning for his next attack. And before he could hold the stamp again he felt it choking him, to the point where he had to crack his jaws wide open with his fists but only a muffled shriek could be heard. Before he could realize anything Frank jumped from his chair in an unorthodox way for a man his age. Mesmerized for a few seconds he became conscious and completely aware that the inevitable has happened. An anarchist is orchestrating the cacophony of chaos in his mind, uninvited; this new guest took it on his own to alter the harmony which controlled Frank’s life. Looking for answers, he started dashing across the room thinking and droning on things he couldn’t comprehend. He implored all the ancient forgotten gods and icons, all the dictums he considered dogmatic. It seemed surreal but unmistakably vivid, it was a clear assertion; he no longer can repent or retract. Frank then noticed a ridiculously huge hammer kept inside a red metal box hanging on the wall next to him, and on the glass it read: “Break Glass In Case Of An Emergency.” What did that statement mean? What kind of emergency? And where was the box the moment he entered? Was it there but he couldn’t see it? How long has it been there? Thousands of answers and doubts invaded his mind like a stampede of bullets, Swarms of question marks leaving him so weak and confused.
Time was a factor he thought before breaking the glass with the chair and taking the hammer out. It was heavy but he managed to pull it all the way to the middle. Listening to the constant fainting beats of his heart in tempo with his heavy breathing, he closed his eyes to try and remember, analyze and assume. But as the darkness crawled into his head there was nothing left but a killer silent void. “Behold! The beauty of chaos!” he shouted before miraculously lifting the heavy tool and waving it in air and smashing the wall next to him, before he could stop for a gasp he was delivering the second strike to the clocks. And like David with his sling Frank hoists the hammer above his head before sending it swinging toward the giant door. Ironically the door stood still and seemed intact, just like the system he was trying to revolt against. Goliath seemed untroubled by this mutiny.
Amidst the shower of shattered glass, stone fractures and saliva Frank inhaled deeply despite this thick sparkling mixture. Limping toward the desk, he reaches for his pocket and takes out his sheathed pack of cigarettes. Silence was so overwhelming he could hear the flame burning through the dry tobacco leaves as he lit the roll and inhaled. A dry cough accompanied his puff as he leaned back on the desk while adjusting his position on the ground. Legs bent in front of him held by both of his arms, his head sank into his lap while he kept muttering words he didn’t recognize.
He couldn’t tell whether one hour passed, a year or a minute by the time he woke up. Frank no longer recognized time as the conquering master, for the first time in his life he was free. And to further insinuate this and assure himself he took off his tie and threw it away in a swift move. He was still gasping heavily but his heart was still pounding so fast he could hear it. But was it really his heart beat? Frank wondered as he touched the left side of his chest and found no significant movement. He became more nervous as the sound grew louder. “That is no heart beat” he whispered “those are footsteps.” And before he could stand up to face his new mysterious foe the lock’s mechanism clicked again and then entered an indistinguishable silhouette. Troubled as is, he couldn’t recognize the new individual. There was no similarity what so ever, on the contrary; this man was younger, strongly built and his neck tie was vibrant red, unlike frank’s pale one. But what worried him was what caught the attention of his eyes upon the entry of his guest, a name tag on the chest that read: “Frank Leigh.” The most fearsome day has come, his substitute has arrived. And just like the former uninvited guest this one inflicted even more fear and anxiety into his heart. He seemed discontented and annoyed by the mess Frank created. He looked in doubt at the questionable decaying figure in front of him but still didn’t mind or complain when he grabbed the chair and sat down, sinking into his elbows as he pounded the desk with them. A second or two passed before his entire existence was shaken and toppled again. A deafening noise filled the room as the retro phone resting on the table announced the arrival of an even more gruesome omen. With his motor skills in such a critical state, Frank almost fell off the chair when he first heard it. He could feel the other guy was standing next to him, stripping his thoughts with his eyes and breathing fire at his soul. His mouth was running dry he tried to swallow his fear and anxiety in but a lump of despair suffocated him. The room was getting smaller, his body shrinking, and his frantic heart panicking in a bone shield that has became a prison. And just before he picked up; there surfaced the distinctive stench of death. A distant serious voice was on the other side. “Yeah I totally understand sir.” Frank said as he hung up. He then looked at the other man and said: “It’s time you finish what I started.” And only then did he remember all the small details about his life, which to his surprise weren’t less boring than his present. That same presence he gave up a few hours ago seemed so futile now that his life was taking a turn toward its last destination. He couldn’t find a reason to regret anything; remorse seemed ironic for there wasn’t really anything to yearn for. He flinched for the thought of it but it took him a few moments to accept his fate and face it. He wanted to ask for one last favor, a request or a wish but he feared they would enjoy this as a moment of triumph and that alone was a loss he couldn’t afford. The new Frank now grasped his neck and before he could recoil he heard the sleek cold metal hacking through his dry skin, his own veins shred before a warm shy stream of blood muffled this sonata. Slowly he sank into his chair, feeling dizzy and embracing what appeared to be a light at the end of a very dark and narrow tunnel.
Frank Leigh wiped the last drop of blood of f the table and placed the napkin carefully in an envelope he stowed in the drawer. The room was back to its original state, not a detail seemed exotic. He lined the stack of papers carefully in front of him, patiently waiting for the first clock across the room to point at 8:00. He wasn’t annoyed or troubled by the routine. And in a dark corner above him time was lurking for the wait to be over; to start a new chapter of his never ending saga.