La Ron S. Readus
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Untitled Project: Chapter 1 Segment Rewrite
🕑 Added 2019-02-08 23:00:39 +0000 UTC
The scream of Tony’s alarm in his bedroom was sudden yet impactful , violently jolting his consciousness back into the reach of reality. It tightened its grip with every passing second, forcing him out of his morning stagger. Once he was fully brought back to the land of the living, Tony turned his head to the left and saw the blame for his brief bother; his phone resting atop his dresser on the other end of his bedroom. Already defeated from his clash with consciousness, Tony removed himself from his queen-sized bed and slowly approached the dresser, sifting away whatever lingering sense of grogginess was left in his system in hopes of finding even the slightest hint at a nugget of excitement.
The constant flash from his phone’s alarm constantly caused Tony to flinch until he reached the dresser and made a quick swipe of its screen to turn everything off. He took a minute to himself soon after, closing his eyes as he reached for the light switch right in front of him. The dark of his eyelids quickly turned into a reddish orange color upon flicking it, and he slowly opened his eyes in hesitant anticipation for his eyes to suddenly adjust to the light. It took a few moments, but Tony’s eyes soon adjusted, and was able to look down at the contents of the top of his dresser.
His phone was placed near the left end of the dresser; a brilliantly vibrant yellow iPhone XR resting atop a metallic gray phone case that Tony immediately slipped it into once his eyes had properly adjusted to the light. To the left of it were his house and car keys, along with an assortment of key chain membership cards from different stores. To the right of it were multiple picture printouts of high school and college moments with friends, wedged between the dresser mirror and the border that kept it attached. The only framed picture on the dresser was of he and an elderly woman, both of them smiling and in a loving embrace. The frame itself was embroidered to say “Seoul 2016.”
To Tony, seeing that specific picture every morning was like feeling a gentle nostalgic wave of memories splash against his feet on a beach in the warm afternoon sun. It always exposed him to the perfect amount of the tide without the risk of being completely overtaken by the emotional ocean before him. And it was because he knew he wouldn’t get swept away that he allowed a smile to creep across his face, and his brown eyes to relax after their initial exposure to light after hours on end. He even moved the messy medium length black hair that blocked his vision thanks to bedhead out of the way so he could look at it properly. After a while, Tony took the index and middle fingers on his right hand, gave them a combined kiss, and placed them on the framed image of the woman soon after.
“Good morning, grandma,” he said in Korean.
The blaring of his phone’s back-up alarm snatched Tony out of his state of pleasantry. The smile died the moment he turned his head away from the framed picture and toward the flashing screen. The absent look persisted on Tony’s face, even as he picked up the cold metal gray case containing his iPhone to turn off the alarm before placing it back in its usual spot on the dresser. Even as Tony gave his slim yet athletic body a proper morning stretch, the weariness persisted. It wasn’t foreign to him, however; from the disenchanted look in his eyes, one could say he was used to it. So used to it, that Tony showed no problem carrying it with him as he prepared for the rest of the day.
Just like the day before.
