A Day in an Invisible Life
My days begin in anonymity*.
Nobody knows who I am, really. Maybe that’s because I lead a double—life.
There are hints here and there. Some days… nights, actually… I call work and tell them I can’t come in. That I have “something going on with that other job”, and they understand. But around this town, nobody has a clue of who I am, and what I do.
The molten sun pours through my window blinds between 6 and 8 am. I don’t remember it being this way when I moved here last July. It’s like that scene near the beginning of the movie Jaws, when Chief Brody says basically the same thing to his wife, and she explains it to him. My observation being not the angle of the sun, or what season I moved in, but that Chief Brody had a wife.
In another minute I decide there’s no use fighting with the sun, and I grab something that passes for pants to wear on the walk downstairs to make coffee. I’m not against making coffee naked, I just don’t want to be seen doing so by my landlady. She’s not at all a morning person, but that one time I did laundry naked now shapes the way I make morning coffee for however long I end up living here.
I work nights, and I’ll get to talking about that. But for right now, I have editing to do. Not my own, or I’d probably push that off till tomorrow, or the next day. This is for someone whose book is on deadline, and I don’t intend to be that guy who can’t make other people’s dreams come true. I’ve been that guy, and that guy has no place in my life, anymore. So, while my slower-than-a-kid-late-for-school laptop boots, I shuffle downstairs… clothed… to make the magic happen.
Coffee is magic.
I drink my coffee and edit the book, and the sun asks if I wouldn’t mind opening the blinds a little wider, just to make it easier on both of us. No, the sun doesn’t really talk to me. That would be crazy. But I get the hint, and do it. My room fills with slat-filtered daylight, and the coffee seems stronger for it. As I search the pages of the book on my screen for errors… and I do find a few… I know that what I’m doing now is important. It has invisible value. I guess, like my invisible life. As I read and make notes on paper, in ink, I forget about the coffee, growing cold in the cup that sits beside me on my bed. I think how this may be the most important thing I do all day.
This book is magic.
*I began this “day in the life” at the suggestion of a trusted friend. When I realized I couldn’t jam 24 hours into 600 words, the idea of serializing my day was born. Next up, Hour 2.
© Copyright 2018 William S. Friday