Chapter 3

Seven a.m. never felt so early. I pried my eyelids apart just enough to search out the snooze button. There it is! Fifteen more minutes.

I always regretted my choice of alarm this early in the morning. It was the loudest one available at whichever “mart” I had purchased it from. The last three alarms I owned were for decor purposes mostly; however, they failed miserably at the whole waking me up thing.

I was late to work at least two times a week. It was enough for my bosses to notice. They suggested this fancy alarm that jumps off of the table when it goes off so you have to get out of bed to turn it off. During the day, when you’re already alert, that sounds like a great idea. At seven a.m., it sounds like torture.

After checking them out, I decided I would steer clear of the moving snooze button and stick with the stationary one. I just had to find the loudest alarm they had. The salesman, who had already had twice the caffeine he should have had, pointed out the alarm that now adorns my bedside table.

It’s big and boxy, resembling one of those cell phones from the 80’s, and has huge red digital numbers. It wasn’t bought for style. It did, however, get the job done.

What was I doing thinking about the type of alarm I had when I only had fifteen more minutes with Penny? Well, by now it was ten.

I didn’t get to dream of her the entire night, though a great portion was devoted to her. It was crime show night last night, so I had a few dreams about guys lurking in alley ways ready to cut me open for medical research or something bizarre.

What! My fifteen minutes are up? I must have dozed off. The archaic box started wailing again. If I hit the snooze button one more time, I’ll get stuck in traffic and be late. I had this morning routine thing down to a science. Of course, it’s been a while since I accidentally slept in.

Okay, out of bed. Ugh. It was easier said than done. I had to put one foot on the floor for a second to steady myself. Then, I sat up slowly and put the other foot down. If I get up too fast, I’ll get dizzy and see black for a few seconds. Success.

The mirror again. Hmph. Maybe I really should start working out. Yea, right after I start cooking real dinners. I laughed, but quit doing that as soon as I realized how ridiculous I felt watching myself laugh in the mirror. I made a mental note not to do that again.

The rest of my routine went rather, well, routine. I left the apartment building at exactly the right time to avoid all of the other people who had to be at work when I did. I even made it to my car without having to give the neighborly nod that is usually customary if I run into an awkward neighbor situation.

I stopped at my favorite fast food restaurant on the way into work. I always go through the drive thru. Some type of egg sandwich washed down with warm coffee. For some reason, it’s never quite hot. That’s fine with me though. I’ve gotten so used to it being warm, it would probably burn my mouth if they surprised me with a fresh cup of coffee.

I was one of the first ones to work. That hardly ever happens. I definitely could have hit the snooze one more time.

My work day was unmentionable. It drug on as I stared at the clock in my office. One or two people meandered in and asked me questions. I got lunch in the cafeteria of the building our marketing firm is in. Same as usual: chicken fingers and greasy, translucent fries. Of course, I slathered ranch all over everything to cover up the cardboard texture of both the chicken and the fries.

The clock finally hit five, and I sluggishly picked myself up off of my chair. I have to admit, it’s fairly comfortable. As comfortable as a pleather office chair can get.

I walked out of the building, having to say bye to a few co-workers. I still have no idea what their names are. Probably Sam and Ramon. Who knows. In fact, the one I refer to as Sam could be either a man or woman. That’s why I gave him (or her) an androgynous code name. I’ve never seen Sam wear a skirt and the hair could go either way. I’ll have to remember to look at Sam’s hands next time.

I can usually tell someone’s gender by looking at their hands. If they are bulkier and have a little bit of hair, it’s usually safe to assume male. If they are petite and have few veins, female is the best bet. Also, wedding ring style can give it away.

I made it to my car for the tumultuous drive home. I really could do without this part of my day. The drive to work in the morning isn’t nearly as cumbersome. I still have tasks to accomplish. Once the work day is over, I don’t have anything to focus on to keep my mind from wandering too far off base.

I was pulling into my parking spot when I remembered that I had nothing for dinner. I could go one night without dinner, but two just wasn’t something I wanted to deal with. I made enough money to eat, I was just too lazy to go the ten blocks down the road to the store.

If I were to leave the spot open and take the car down to the store, I wouldn’t have a spot left when I got home. If I walked, I’d have to deal with the bags and the change.

I did say I wanted to start exercising, so I decided a ten block walk couldn’t be too terribly awful. Man was I out of shape. By the eighth block I needed a break. I sat down at a bus stop bench and tried to catch my breath.

Well, exercise didn’t pan out well for me. Maybe I should get a treadmill and slowly work my way up to eight blocks. More if I get really ambitious.

There was a girl that caught my eye walking a few dozen feet from where I was sitting. She had on a hat, sunglasses, and was covered up much like she didn’t want people knowing who she really was.

Even though I couldn’t really see much of her, I was drawn to her. Her essence provoked me and made my heart beat double the speed it did when I came up on that eighth block.

Through all of the layers of clothing and guise, I could tell she was gorgeous. I’m sure she would be devastating to the entire male population if they were to see her in heels and a slinky dress. Of course, she had me fantasizing about her without even seeing an inch of skin.

She kept getting closer to me. She seemed so familiar. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was exactly. Wow, my body was on fire at this point. I prayed she would turn and walk down the opposite street so that this torture would end. Or was it torture?

She looked up from her gaze down at the street and smiled at me. It was such a guarded smile. I wasn’t sure what she was guarding. I wanted so badly to know what lay behind that smile. The words that keep her tongue company were more than welcome to lay and rest beside my ear.

She sat directly beside me. Of course, I was sitting at a bus stop. She probably noticed me gawking at her and she smiled to be polite because she thought we were going to have an awfully long bus ride if she was rude.

She leaned in close to me. Her lips were so close to my neck, I could feel her moist, warm breath caressing the skin between my shoulder and the edge of my hair line.

“I was scared you wouldn’t come,” she whispered softly, “I’m so glad you got my note.”

Conception of a Novel by Jennifer Ference is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at conceptionofanovel.wordpress.com.