Today he wakes up, secure in the knowledge that nothing he knows will happen actually will happen. Today he wakes up telling himself two directly conflicting stories, one because he needs to hear it and the other because he knows it to be the truth. He goes about the daily routine.

A greeting here goes unnoticed. An unnoticed gesture should have been a greeting. A single slip of paper evokes an unconscious moan of disproval. Eleven small things grate a million nerves. An unconscious moan of disproval turns into a conscious dread of a coming hour. Dozens of pairs of eyes get more and more red. One pair of eyes continues to burn. Someteen people laugh at a joke that was only funny the first time. The sun rises.

A professional admits to not knowing how to do its job. All subordinates save one let the admission pass with nary a question. One formulates a small army of questions, but bites his tongue. Somewhere somebody breaks a rule. A boy sitting comfortably is spoken to by a girl who never speaks to him. A victor is tossed into the reject pile, and the bad triumphs again.

The cards flip, and fortune spares a break where it doesn't matter. Somewhere people are shunning responsibility. Somewhere people are dying. In town, people are laughing at bricks. One person makes himself comfortable in an unusual place. A friend asks questions, but is not pressing enough. A pretty girl is refusing to smile.

Time slows to a crawl for a whole 40 increments. A familiar stranger makes small talk, but is obviously avoiding a conversation. A pretty girl is smiling for the wrong reasons. Somewhere a girl not quite as pretty is making an indecent proposal. Dread is brought to a halt... for now. A professional, brought to demonstrate his eloquent speech, expresses his ideas well but speaks the wrong language. Suspicions of loneliness are confirmed.

A meaningless display of authority is given. An esteemed woman loses a little more respect. A score of terminals all click loudly. Spoken word is lost behind a misplaced desire to move. A good deed is done by two people. One person does a good deed for nothing better to do. One person does a good deed as an odd sort of joke. Orchestrated music sends chills down the spine of a person who shouldn't be hearing it. A dream descends. Someone gets used.

A machine is repaired by a fine young man. An angel and a stranger both smile. A cloud descends over the thoughts of a different young man. An unusual trip leads to an unusual product. Somewhere an indecent proposal is being accepted. Somewhere somebody does something inconsequential that means the world somewhere else. One citizen decides to relax. He fails.

Somewhere somebody enjoys a meal. Somewhere somebody skips a meal. Somewhere somebody eats a meal he would rather have skipped. The sun falls. A fog descends over the town. An ill-esteemed boy does a favor. It gets blown out of proportion. Somewhere somebody dies. An energetic girl is accompanied by a sullen boy. A part of somebody dies.

Somewhere somebody smiles. Somewhere somebody dreams. Somewhere somebody stares at a ceiling. Somewhere, food is consumed in good humor. Somewhere somebody returns home with a smile and a sigh. Somewhere, apologies are offered. Somewhere, somebody gets an honor guard. Everywhere, the night makes sure that all the good little boys and girls are in bed.

Streets empty. A single car careens around with only a general destination. Fog rolls around it. Fog parts to let it by. A single street lamp flickers a dying soliloquy to its still-bright comrades. The fog in someone's head becomes thicker. A girl brings her boyfriend inside for television. Witching hour begins.

A car parks, turns off its lights, but does not open. A new person listens to the electrical whine that follows him everywhere. Silence makes noise come to life. Water washes away dirt. Nothing else can wash away. Somebody is still awake, with the tug of hunger dueling with a need for sleep. Somebody else is still awake, waiting vigilantly and a little upset. Somebody regrets not being able to communicate. The streetlight dies.

A young man lies awake in bed. A dripping faucet raises a ruckus. A loud television shatters serenity. An insomniac treads into a dark room to sit alone. Somewhere, tears are washing a pillowcase. Somewhere, tears are washing a pair of hands. Somewhere, kisses adorn a lover's cheek. Somewhere, somebody is afraid of getting caught.

A citizen is afraid that he won't sleep again before tomorrow. Just another day in town. Just another day in the life of a citizen.