Michael stood before his front door, a pensive look had invaded and conquered his face. The sun shining in through the fake stained glass window in his upvc door lit up the hall way and created a colourful pattern over his work shirt. He always took a minute to reflect before he left the house into the chaotic world outside. He was ever the optimist; he knew that beyond that door was a world full of opportunities. Anything could happen and he was always a little excited about how his day could unfold. He could fall in love, make an arch enemy, find god, be involved in a heist, become rich, the possibilities were endless. He got a little giddy each time he pondered this, often a little day dream flashed in his mind that he suddenly got an idea to solve a world crisis or the plot of a blockbuster film. He didn’t know what thoughts or ideas were going to pop into his brain that day, as he didn’t know what cerebral catalyst he may encounter. That’s the dice he rolled every time he pulls the flimsy white upvc door open, it was always his intention to pick these dice back up as quickly as possible and roll them again, and eventually he would get the outcome he longed for.
He pulled down the hem of his jacket with both hands, stretching the thick cotton and pulling his shoulders down, trying to dismantle any creases that may be obvious to anyone judging him on his domestic prowess or lining up a potential suitor. He looked to his left; the hallway wall met his gaze, as his neck twisted further his reflection replaced the poorly aligned floral wall paper. The large mirror, a remnant from the previous owner, had been placed to capture the resident prepared for the day ahead and bedraggled on the return to their oasis. He stared at the large mirror trying to get a feel for himself and his identity, but leaving himself at the mercy of fate left him slightly unsure as he had no decisive plan or end of goal to focus himself on. His hair was a bit scruffy. It had been of late, ever since he had the time saving idea of combing his hair and brushing his teeth at the same time. He enjoyed it, though it was pretty tough, and he would often start to laugh as his coordination went haywire as he attempted the fine touch of the comb with the more vigorous cleaning of his molars. This laughing would often result in him splattering white dots over the bathroom mirror. He would try to extract all enjoyment out of the smallest things in life, often chuckling to himself randomly, at things other people barely notice. He patted his hair down and pulled his shoulders back, lifting himself to his full height. Michael considered himself a 7/10 in over all looks. This slightly optimistic scoring increased his dreams of falling in love each day.
As he looked down, the redness of his clothes reflected back at him. He once read that people who wear red are seen as more attractive, although saying that a red shirt did take quite some hunting down and he ended up putting his white shirts in with his bright red jogging pants. He did question the legitimacy of the theory when it had no real impact and the red effect didn’t seem to work for Father Christmas either, who was not known for his womanising, maybe he was more into Elves. Over the next few years Michael’s wardrobe became redder and redder as he clung to this theory, now when he opened the wardrobe door it was as if his clothes had been caught out, burning red with embarrassment.
Michael knew that the excitement he strived for was not going to happen on its own. He had to put himself out there and get involved. Any opportunities to engage he would, taking any dialogue a bit further than the pleasantries, helping people where he could or even just smiling at people. He was amazed at how people reacted when you smiled at them, it’s as if they suddenly realised the world wasn’t quite as arduous as they thought a second ago. He had practiced his smile as he felt it was one of his most important weapons at overcoming the social norm of disengagement. He had practiced so that his smile was warm and welcoming rather than creepy or patronising.
Michael had a number of rules that help him get the most out of his life, rules to ensure that the likelihood of something life changing happening were increased, they were his rules to live by.
Firstly, he never used a word he did not know the meaning of. Other people probably won’t know either and they won’t engage. Pretence at intelligence scares people away. They will think you are trying to show off your education and do not wanted to get embroiled in a competition to use the largest word. Michael kept things simple, if people were going to reply they needed to understand what he was talking about.
Always walk with your head up, rule number 2 and an important one. For this he had a motto “Looking down you may find a pound, looking up you may find inspiration, whether in the sky, building or people”. He felt that you must keep aware of what’s going on so you can jump in when an opportunity arises, also the floor never smiled back, apart from his reflection in the occasional puddle.
Always take a different route to your destination, where practical though, he wasn’t prepared to travel the world for a pint of milk.
Never fart in a public place; you never know who is going to stand next to you. The exception being in a windy place or if you are walking at a fast pace or just heavily bloated. Having people disgusted at you will never help in engaging, so keep clean and keep those smells locked up tight.
Always give money to street performers, and if someone is paying steel drums give them all your change. He loved the steel drums and even danced outside Debenhams one afternoon for a whole hour. The band now refuse to play as he approaches as his moves were offending their eyes, and made everyone look at him. He was only ever taught how to ballroom dance and upping the tempo and being by himself made him look a bit epileptic.
Always help people out, even if it’s just as simple as carrying the front of a pram or picking up something someone has dropped. He prided himself on this but really his kindness was driven out of need for attention, therefore making his generosity a purely selfish deed, although he didn’t realise this.
His last rule was not to be scared to talk to people or volunteer, although the street entertainers were sick of the sight of him. Just engage with people and situations to get the most out of life, don’t be afraid how others may judge you. Some people recoiled in terror when he done this but there was always people who would respond favourably and these were the type of people he was looking for, he wanted someone of the same mind set to live happily ever after with.
Each day has the potential of a blank piece of paper, to be folded up into a swan, to be covered in words or colour. It all depends on who picks up the piece of paper. On the reverse it could be a ransom note, a Dear John letter, someone could even die from a nasty paper cut in the right place.
Michael felt that people had evolved over thousands of years to be inherently nice. Certain events reemphasised his belief in humanity, that they should not be avoided or scared of, even amongst the crowed city. One was escalators. Michael loved the escalators; it’s where people take a brief second out of their hectic morning routine to just stand still. He would often see couples cuddling and smiling at each other or people just staring into nowhere as if deep in thought. He wished they were slowed down to make this quality time take up more of people lives and even wrote to the mayor.
He appreciated these moments as he saw people living for the moment, treating the time they have on this earth with the respect it deserved. He looked at his watch, the second hand flicked and then again. He was obsessed how each second of his life was used. This was down to his fear of death, maybe that he would never have his moment, his life explosion. Each night he would split the seconds of his day into deciles, 1 being horrible and 10 being ecstatic. He had honed this to perfection and it was a consistent analysis for looking over time. His life had been in a pretty steady state of 6’s and 7’s, he so wanted this to improve, so he focused on the 1000’s of seconds that lay before him today. This very insular mind set about getting what you can out of the world could seem slightly misguided and self absorbed by some people. Michael just found it hard to grasp the enormity of the world and set about to make the world which he inhabited as best as possible.
He was ready, a deep breath, puffed his chest up and willed himself to make this a day to remember. With intent and purpose filling him, wondering what kind of person he will be when he returns through that door, he pulled down the latch. The little bit of metal which keeps the evil out of his home retracted, allowing the door to swing freely back, and the world opened up in front of him. Autumn welcomed him with a slightly brisk and cold hand shake. The soft early morning light streams into his hall, now lacking the colourful taint of the stained glass. Looking up he saw the sun nestled between two clouds, illuminating their edges and diluting their grey centre. Below this the wind was rustling the tree tops, as if they were waving hello to him on this new day. The trees now shedding their leaves, he sees them falling, dancing their way to the floor, their brief glimpse of freedom between the hold of the tree and the greedy ground desperate for nutrients. They get to float and dance, before they hit the damp ground when there life as this leaf over. Originally destined to become a leaf on the same tree forever, but now the hard concrete stops this cycle, it now lies on the hard pavement becoming a hazard on the damp pavement, eventually being swept into a plastic bag amongst the human waste.
As Michael went to leave and begin to write the history of his day. He saw Tom who lives opposite him leaving the house, as he always does at this time. Michael saw him every 1st week when he left early. He mixed his leaving time up each month, to make sure he wasn’t missing anything like a neighbour leaving at a set time he could have a chat with.
His brown brogue marking the first word on the page of the day, Michael stepped on to the top step. It touched the concrete slab, where there was little traction, a leaf intercepting his grip. His foot went flying out in front of him, bringing him crashing down to his right. He landed on the empty milk bottles put out to be collected that day, they crash together breaking into deadly shards. His head hit the small garden wall and he slumped forward on to the path, his consciousness escaping his body, leaving it unaware of the river of blood it was creating.
It’s when he woke up that something happened that changed his life forever. It was a gratefulness of what he has and also an understanding that sometime you have to look down, you can’t keep looking up and dreaming of what could be. It was a realisation that life could be more fulfilling than having one good day based on someone else’s actions towards him. It was the realisation that he could receive as much gratification out of ensuring others are not suffering as he did willing his own life to be complete.