Staring at the wall, deep in thought, he remembered the new website. I wonder if they managed to get it up and running. Probably not. At least not yet anyway. Most likely by the end of the week—thanks to me. He picked up his cell phone and tried to access the website, but the signal was non-existent. After several minutes of staring at a blank screen, and pointing the phone to various parts of the room, he gave up and threw it down on the counter. He shook his head in disappointment.
Maybe I could rent a DVD, he thought. And then he remembered that he had loaned Nicky his car. Not wanting to give up on the idea, he decided to continue the search for the missing car keys. The one place he hadn’t looked was the bedroom, so he made his way toward the staircase.
Halfway down the corridor, he felt a sudden cold sensation brush past his arm, like an icy chill on a winter’s morning. He stopped for a moment to rub down the goosebumps on his forearm. Assuming that it must have come from another open window, Richard continued toward the stairs. As his foot touched the first step, he noticed something glimmer on the second step. There, on the stairs, was the missing set of keys. He paused for a moment, thinking back to when he first checked. I’m sure I looked there. Frowning, he picked them up and jangled them in front of his eyes. He shook his head, shrugged, and put them into his pocket.
After putting on his shoes he left the house, climbed into Nicky’s car, and headed for the video shop.
Richard carried his chicken and bacon sandwich into the living room. Setting the food on the couch, he played the DVD. He had rented American Psycho, one of his favorite movies from college. He and his friends would watch it after a night out, quoting lines and describing scenes, spoiling it for anyone who hadn’t seen it.
Those were the days. Good times.
When his sandwich had been consumed and the movie had well-and-truly begun, his eyelids started to feel heavy. He fought off sleep, but it was no use. Within thirty seconds he had passed out.
He awoke to the sound of the end-credits rolling. Grouchy and disoriented, he ran a hand over his face, picked up the remote control, and turned the television off.
The house was eerily silent. He sat thinking of nothing—not even work. His mind was blank as the after-effects of his doze took over. Just as the thought of moving off the couch popped into his head, a horrid screeching noise made him jump up in fright.
What the—
It was the smoke detector. He leapt up and raced to the hallway where it was attached to the ceiling, terrified that he had left something burning. Failing to see any smoke, he darted into the kitchen. That room was clear of smoke too. He was baffled. He hadn’t used any gas outlets all day.
Scrunching his face up as the sound pierced his ears, he returned to the hallway to switch the smoke detector off. Just as he reached the stairs, the wailing ceased. His eardrums rang like they did after a night out, and once again the house was silent.
He stared up at the smoke detector, shaking his head in puzzlement. Cheap piece of crap.
Now he was awake.
As 4:00 p.m. approached, he filled the day with pointless tasks. He rearranged his clothes drawer to make more room; he cleaned the bathroom—including the dreaded shower, which he despised due to his stomach-churning hatred of drain-hair; he sat in the garden, reading one of Nicky’s gossip magazines; he even tidied the awful mess in the cupboard under the stairs.
But nothing distracted his mind from TSH Computers. It had almost been two days and Richard was still in the dark about the website. And not a word from Leah since yesterday. He couldn’t quite decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Either way the suspense was killing him. He had picked up the phone and dialed the office on no less than six occasions, always pushing the ‘cancel’ button just before the calls went through. Each time he shook his head in disbelief and wondered how he ever became such a sad workaholic.