Social Anxiety

Singed air dwells in the nostrils of Mr. Neuman, making it inaccurate to propose that his awakening depended on his nostrils being filled with the smell, but somehow it was easier to blame that smell on a convenient alarm clock. It seemed well enough to get up seeming a habit that work must be done. Mr. Neuman the aspiring son of his grand company could not help, but remain a busy bee even if the work included lying awake in an unforgiving world trying to discern one mud stain from another on the ceiling and pondering if it was really mud and how it got there. How to start a day without an end?

Peering out the window gave little comfort, the sun was up clearly marked by the brightness, but the eerie absence of the sun quashed that little comfort. This light glinted off the untouched Jaguar with the keys on the hood. Maybe it was when it rained, maybe no one wanted to claim it. Give it some time, someone surely must want a car like that. The scene was not unaccompanied, many more cars and oddities littered the parking lot now. It seems guests have come to this rickety old building. Maybe that's what the next step is, time to associate with the neighbors.