Day -204, February 19, 5:30:00am

There is a click and the alarm sounds. Joe rolls over and hits the snooze button, looks up at the ceiling and cannot close his eyes again. Happy Birthday. He pushes the covers off and slides his feet to the floor, sitting up in bed. Standing and stretching he makes his way into the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on, all set up to begin brewing the night before.

Day -201, February 22, 5:30:00am

There is a click and the alarm sounds. Joe rolls over and hits the snooze button, looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes again. There are a few minutes of pleasant silence followed by the alarm again. He pushes the covers off and slides his feet to the floor, sitting up in bed. Standing and stretching he makes his way into the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on, all set up to begin brewing the night before.

Day -197, February 26, 5:30:00am

There is a click and the alarm sounds. Joe rolls over and hits the snooze button, looks up at the ceiling and cannot close his eyes again. He pushes the covers off and slides his feet to the floor, sitting up in bed. He has a crick in his neck and rolls his shoulders to release the strain. Standing and stretching he makes his way into the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on, all set up to begin brewing the night before.

Day -194, March 1, 5:30:00am

There is a click and the alarm sounds. Joe rolls over and hits the snooze button, looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes again. There are a few minutes of pleasant silence followed by the alarm again. He pushes the covers off and slides his feet to the floor, sitting up in bed. Standing and

Day -190, March 5, 5:30:00am

There is a click and the alarm sounds. Joe rolls over and hits the snooze button, looks up at the ceiling and cannot close his eyes again. For a moment he sees a face in the pattern of the ceiling. He throws the covers off and slides his feet to the floor, sitting up in bed. Standing and stretching he makes his way into the kitchen and stubs his toe. He sucks in his breath and curls his toes. Breathing deeply, he let the pain linger and tries to let it be rather than focus on it. He breathes in and out, in and out, standing in the door frame, patiently until the pain subsides.

Day -187, March 8, 5:30:00am

There is a click and the alarm sounds. Joe rolls over and hits the snooze button, and stares at the numbers wondering idly if he stares long enough will he see the number change, the minute pass. If time were slower than it was yesterday how would I know. He lays in bed on his side and watches the clock turn over the minute. He throws the covers off and slides his feet to the floor, sitting up in bed. Standing and stretching he makes his way into

Day -185, March 10, 5:30:00am

Flying far above the intersections, the criss-crossed soul of the island, Joe looks out across its vista and sees the whole of it broken into shards of early morning shafts of light. There are small explosions of clouds beneath him and he can see their shadows fall across the erect soldier buildings and their guarded chasms clashing, blocking the sun. He looks to the streets but there are no cars, no people. There are no ships on the rivers. There are no planes or helicopters in the skies. There is the majesty of the fortress without motion. He drifts higher. His body feels like smoke and he cannot move his arms or legs because they do not seem to be there. He is merely an eye, merely sight. As he drifts the city becomes smaller, the towers merge together and he can only see the geometry of the streets across the whole of Manhattan… and so many shades of gray. (Though he sees Central Park, a rectangle of green.) Higher still, the streets disappear and the island looks like the rough skin of an elephant, it’s shape like a proboscis or trunk, sniffing its way into the Hudson, shoving itself into the folds of the continent. Darkness sweeps across his vision and lights appear from all across the island, winking on and off to thwart airplanes.

Speaking? They blink randomly but the pattern seems like thought, like a computer. They blink more and more and more of them appear, merging in their efforts, until the city is awash in light. Somewhere he hears echoes of laughter, a woman’s laughter. The lights consume the tiny island and wash out across the surrounding land until the Hudson and the East River are black wriggling lines against a blinding light. Joe tries to close his eyes and feels himself begin to fall into the blinding hot lights. He is falling faster and faster but cannot open his eyes. They are searing with pain and watering. A laughter is ringing in his ears. The laughter bleeds into a pulsing ringing and he can feel the ground coming up at him at supersonic speed and…

There is a click and the alarm sounds. Joe’s body convulses and latches onto his mattress. He breathes heavily, startled. Then, looking around he sees he is in his own bed and collapses back into it with a heavy sigh. Noticing the alarm for the first time now Joe rolls over and hits the snooze button, looks up at the ceiling and feels tears dripping down his face. He pushes the covers off and slides his feet to the floor, sitting

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