Day -145, April 19th, 6:49:00 am Joe stands back from the shower head as he lets the hot water get going. After a minute, he turns the water off and brushes his teeth, combs his haird back out of his face. The weather penetrates the frosted glass of a tiny window near the shower. I hope they turn the heat on soon.

Day -142, November 4th, 6:50:00 am Joe stands back from the water as he lets the hot water get going in the shower. As soon as it starts steaming he begins the delicate process of adjusting the cold water in millimeter turns to get that just-right-warm-water temperature. He steps into the water and his ankle slips. He catches himself on the shower door and catches his breath. For a moment an image forms in his imagination of falling and bashing his head on the tile. Lying in the water, the blood runs off his head and down the drain. Staring idly at the drain, Joe watches the water run down it in a clockwise spiral as a puzzled expression comes over his face.

Day -138, November 8th, 6:36:00 am He grabs a mug from the cabinet that reads “Mean People Suck” and goes to poor himself a cup but he forgot to set up the coffee maker the night before. He sighs and puts the mug down on the counter, resigning to get a cup at the deli on the way to the train.

Day -136, November 10th, 6:30:00 am Joe stands back from the water as he lets the hot water get going in the shower. As soon as it starts steaming he begins the delicate process of adjusting the cold water in millimeter turns to get that just-right-warm-water temperature. He steps into the water and lets it wash over him, running his hands through his mop of wavy hair. As the water pelts him he sees one of the girlfish with her sparkling costume and sparkling eyes and smile running near him. She was so cute. The laughter. There is something about the laughter–—something about sheer glee he cannot place. But it is familiar.

Day -131, November 15th, 7:01:56 am There is never any way of knowing what to wear on a given day because the day is new and totally unknown, so Joe works his way through his closet from left to right. He owned only jeans except for one pair of cotton slacks for special occasions and a tailored wool suit for very special occasions and funerals. Everything is hung. He grabs the first long sleeved shirt on the left of the long sleeved shirt section. He gets the first pair of jeans on the left of the jeans section. He dresses while thinking about the last time he wore a suit—his interview at Consolidated Empire Demolition.

Day -129, November 17th, 7:02:19 am There is never any way of knowing what to wear on a given day because the day is new and totally unknown, so Joe works his way through his closet from left to right. He owned only jeans except for one pair of cotton slacks for special occasions and a tailored wool suit for very special occasions and funerals. Everything is hung. He grabs the first long sleeved shirt on the left of the long sleeved shirt section. He gets the first pair of jeans on the left of the jeans section. He dresses while looking over what’s left in the closet. It’s getting close to laundry day.

Day -124, November 22nd, 7:01:41 am There is never any way of knowing what to wear on a given day because the day is new and totally unknown, so Joe works his way through his closet from left to right. He owned only jeans except for one pair of cotton slacks for special occasions and a tailored wool suit for very special occasions and funerals. Everything is hung. He grabs the first long sleeved shirt on the left of the long sleeved shirt section. He gets the first pair of jeans on the left of the jeans section. He dresses.

Day -122, November 24th, 7:04:12 am There is never any way of knowing what to wear on a given day because the day is new and totally unknown, so Joe works his way through his closet from left to right. She is totally naked, laughing. “Where’s your costume!?” Joe mumbles, “I’m wearing it,” sarcastically, under his breath. He owned only jeans except for one pair of cotton slacks for special occasions and a tailored wool suit for very special occasions and funerals. Everything is hung. “He’s wearing it, he says! He’s a confused blue collar worker afraid of the lunatics!”

Shut up, he thinks. They are all lunatics; even the ones wearing my costume.

“I sent them to you, Josephu. Pay more attention.” “You shouldn’t call me that,” he says to the empty closet. He grabs the first long sleeved shirt on the left of the long sleeved shirt section and then puts it back. He grabs a long underwear top and shuffles through the short-sleeve shirts for on one particular—one he had never worn before. It’s yellow and has a silhouette of two unicorns humping underneath a rainbow. He loves it and has coveted it ever since he saw it but if he wears it people will look at him; they will stare. They will stare and he will go into himself to nurse his aversions. She will probably take over his thoughts. It seems to happen most often when he is not present. He gets the first pair of jeans on the left of the jeans section. He dresses himself.

Day -116, November 30th, 7:10:22 am Joe walks from the bedroom to the living room where one window looks out to the Brooklyn Bridge’s Western tower. Next to the window on a small table is a Torii with several photographs and newspaper clippings about the Brooklyn Bridge. Beneath the table is a basket with many letters that Joe has written. He takes one of the letters and methodically folds it lengthwise in half and then in half again and half again; then folds it into a staircase pattern. He sets the folded letter in a metal dish sitting before the Torii and lighting a match, sets the letter on fire. He waits for a moment with his hands crossed in front of him while the letter smolders and stares out at the bridge.

Day -113, December 3rd, 7:28:15 am Joe holds the front door to the apartment while he checks his pocket for his keys, lets the door close behind him, checks one time to make sure that it is locked and heads down the stairs through the lobby and out into the street. As he walks down the front stoop of the building a green Oldsmobile passes by slowly and Joe smiles at the driver . The driver does not see him. Looking left towards the Brooklyn Bridge and then right, Joe heads out for the York street station. He puts his headphones on as he goes. The ambient sounds of a running brook flow into him.

Day -110, December 6th, 7:30:21 am Joe holds the front door to the apartment while he checks his pocket for his keys, lets the door close behind him, checks one time to make sure that it is locked and heads down the stairs through the lobby and out into the street. He walks down the front stoop of the building. Looking left towards the Brooklyn Bridge and then right, Joe heads out for the York street station. He puts his headphones on as he goes; the sudden ambient hum of a running brook coming into his ears.

Day -107, December 9th, 7:28:10 am Joe holds the front door to the apartment while he checks his pocket for his keys, lets the door close behind him, checks one time to make sure that it is locked and heads down the stairs through the lobby and out into the street. He walks down the front stoop of the building. Looking left towards the Brooklyn Bridge and then right, Joe heads out for the York street station. There is a brisk wind in his face and he puts his headphones on as he goes.

Day -103, December 13th, 7:29:47 am Joe holds the front door to the apartment while he checks his pocket for his keys, lets the door close behind him, checks one time to make sure that it is locked and has to slide by one of his neighbors that is coming in on the stairs. Late night? He mumbles, “Good morning!” and continues down the stairs out the lobby and into the street. A taxi cab is just pulling away as he walks down the front stoop of the building. Looking left towards the Brooklyn Bridge and then right, Joe heads out for the York street station. He puts his headphones on as he goes.

Day -100, December 16th, 7:29:13 am Joe holds the front door to the apartment while he checks his pocket for his keys, lets the door close behind him, checks one time to make sure that it is locked and heads down the stairs through the lobby and out into the street. He walks down the front stoop of the building. Looking left towards the Brooklyn Bridge… which winks at him?

Read the whole thread: The Hunger Engine

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