Jon had just woken up, but already he knew today was a going to be a strange day. Something about the temperature of the water in the shower, the fit of his suit, or the taste of his breakfast-toast made him suspicious of what fortune had in store for him. Still, skepticism made him overlook these instincts and proceed with his routine. He stepped out the door of his small house and turned right, striding down the lane, brightly lit by the early-morning sunshine.

Focused on his commute, Jon nearly stepped on the cat sprawled across the sidewalk. Stopping short, Jon stared at the cat, expecting it to scamper off in surprise. Instead, the tabby returned his gaze, meeting his eyes with uncanny intent. Jon stepped back, suspicious of the feline. Suddenly, with cat-like reflexes, the creature reverse-somersaulted onto its rear paws, standing erect with fore-legs crossed and tail wrapped around its waist like a belt.

“So, this is what we’re doing today?” Jon muttered, “We’re having a surprise encounter with a mystical animal? I assume it will teach me some sort of lesson, changing my personality forever.”

These comments were not directed at anyone in particular, though Jon appeared very upset with someone.

“Shut it. I’m not participating in your aesop, you hack!”

Jon glared accusingly at the bipedal quadruped in front of him. The cat simply opened its mouth and screamed “BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP…” as it faded into an alarm clock flashing six-oclock.

---

Jon sat up in bed and pounded the clock silent. It took him a moment to realize the morning had simply been a dream.

“No, it’s pretty damn obvious that was a dream. Thank god we get to abandon that plot device. Or are you going shoehorn it into some sort of metaphor?”

After shouting at his empty bedroom, as he did every day, Jon excitedly began his morning routine, but for real this time. One unsettling shower, cheap suit, and butter-soaked piece of toast later, he stepped out into the morning sunshine. The day was even more pleasant than in his dream. He turned right and headed down the lane.

Actually, he turned left and took the long way around the block, as he sometimes did on Thursdays. Never one to dwell on efficiency, Jon would grew bored of his routine.

“You bet your ass I would.”

Yep, really not one to go with the flow, that guy. Many would consider that a flaw, but Jon believed this made him a relatable, three-dimensional character.

“You know you’re not making me sound like an idiot with those descriptions, right? I’m not going to point any fingers, but maybe you stick to events and I’ll take care of representing myself. Thanks.”

The mildly-schizophrenic man walked with great haste away from his home, towards the less-convenient bus stop. We’ll never know he chose to divert from his usual path, but on that day the winds of fate blew unpredictably and with great consequence, as winds often do. In his urgency, Jon bolted into an intersection blindly, as pedestrians often do. He did not notice the Prius coming at him, innocently making a left turn, as cars often do. The vehicle came to a screeching halt, but not quickly enough. Jon’s hip absorbed most of the impact before he was thrown to the ground in a pitiful heap.

---

After a long moment of stillness, which was very suspenseful, Jon attempted to right himself.

“You heartless, petty, illiterate hack!” Jon shouted angrily at the pavement,  “Do you get off on torturing me, or is this another idiotic attempt at dramatic storytelling? I don’t know which sickens me more!”

Jon was dazed and entering shock. He was finding it very difficult to stand up, as crash victims often do. The driver of the Prius jumped out of her car, her perfect cheekbones damp with tears of panic. She rushed to help Jon, tying back her flowing blonde hair and getting on her knees beside him. Their eyes met, and Jon nearly forget his unresponsive lower-half as she let out a thousand compassionate apologies.

“Please, don’t worry,” Jon reassured her, “I think I’m fine.” He was still unable to move his right leg. “I’m just glad you stopped in time.”

She tried to call him an ambulance, but Jon assured her that a ride home would be help enough. With her support, he limped to her car and got in the passenger seat. As she walked to the driver side, Jon muttered to himself, “I know what you’re doing. This is your twisted version of a cute romance meeting. Dumb. I’m not playing along, no matter how pretty she is.”

“My name is Selena, by the way. I live in this neighborhood too. Aren’t you that guy who lives in the blue house and appears pretty hip and alternative despite wearing suits to work?”

She gave him a friendly smile, but Jon didn’t return it, like a total dick.

And then a bus crushed Selena’s car, which had been in the middle of the street this whole time, and they both died.

---

Jon sat up in bed and punched his alarm clock. He tried to stand up but his right leg was still asleep so he fell to the floor, looking like a total idiot.

“We’re not doing Groundhog Day! I was glad we dropped the whole cat thing, but you can’t just keep resetting shit! Even parodies of that plot are played out!”

Jon gathered himself and began his morning routine, but for real this time. Shower, suit, toast, then out the door and on his way.

I said: Shower. Suit. TOAST.

“Nope, nope. Nope nope nope.”

On your way Jon. Come on, first a shower. There you go. No, not jeans, you wear suits. Ok fine, weekend-wear today! You can skip toast, now on your way — hey, close that window! You can’t go that way!

Fine.

Jon climbed through his bathroom window into the alleyway behind his house. He was very excited — Window Day only came around once a month and was one of the funnest days of his perfectly-normal schedule. He ran down the alley with almost manic determination, making his way to the bus stop.

That is to say, he ran past the bus stop and into another alley. He would always jog to work on Window Day. Or, um, not to work… That’s right, to the bad side of town. He would go to that run-down house and…

Buy heroine? You’re buying heroine?! God damn you, Jon, I thought we were done with this after that period where we wrote all those after-school specials.

Oh, you’re not even responding now? Just going to crash on the couch with that crackhead chick and shoot up? Oh shit is that Selena? She’s not supposed to be here! What the hell is going on?

“Hey Sel, I think Sebastian is finally coming back around.”

“Ah, nice, he was starting to freak me out. Like, he gets super obsessed with describing random shit when he’s deep in it.”

“Yeah, judgemental-as-fuck, too. Yo, Bass, you cool?”

Hey, hey, hey you don’t worry about me. I worry about you. I take care of you, I’ll get you out of here. You’ll get a house and marry Selena and every day will be the same great day. You’ll have a cool cat.

“Ha, whatever you say, man. It’s your story.”