(Page 1 of 5) The Man Upstairs by Robert WilliamsSUMMARY: The cruelty of daily life leads to a shocking act of retribution in this dark tale.Richard wakes after two hours of sleep. The alarm clock by his bed shrieks six a.m. He slings a tired arm towards it and smacks it off. The effort of climbing out of bed seems much more difficult than it should be. He stumbles to the kitchen, puts a coffee single bag in his cup, fills it with water and puts it in the microwave. Then he makes a bowl of cereal and munches on it while he waits for his coffee.
Through his haze of sleep, he can hear his upstairs neighbors speaking in raised voices. He can't make out the words, just the tones. A loud, angry, masculine voice. A shrill, fearful female voice.
The microwave beeps at him. He opens the door, takes out his cup and sips at it. He sips too much and the coffee burns his mouth. He rinses his mouth out with tap water to cool it and heads to the bathroom.
Shower, teeth, shave, in that order. The same every day. Repetition keeps him organized. He goes back to the kitchen and chugs his coffee. It is much cooler now.
He hears a thud from the ceiling. Wracking sobs coming from above. A male voice shouts once, he thinks it says, "Bitch!" Footsteps remind him of thunder.
He goes to the bedroom and dresses. Button-down shirt, khaki pants. Standard work outfit. Each day's clothes are much like any other's. He grabs his keys and heads for the door.
Stepping outside, he turns and locks his apartment door. Burglary is a problem in this neighborhood. He walks out to the sidewalk, looks down and realizes his shoe is untied. He bends down to tie it as his upstairs neighbor comes down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. His upstairs neighbor is wearing a business suit and tie. He drives an Acura and carries a briefcase. Richard does not know his name, but has come to think of him as Mr. Big Shot.
Mr. Big Shot does not look where he is going and bumps into Richard, knocking him to the ground.
"Watch it, idiot," says Mr. Big Shot. He walks away, scowling.
Richard picks himself up, does not look at Mr. Big Shot walking away, brushes the dirt from his pants, and goes to his car parked at the curb. He drives into the morning rush hour traffic and heads to work.
Forty-five minutes and five miles later, he pulls into the parking lot of LaFayette Mall. He drives around, looking for a space. After fifteen minutes of searching, he finds one at the back of the lot. He parks, gets out of the car, and walks into the mall.
Once inside, he jostles through the crowd and makes his way to Life in Letters bookstore. His boss, Jolene, meets him at the entrance.
"So, college boy can't get to work on time, huh?" says Jolene. He once made the mistake of telling her he had a bachelor's degree.
"I'm sorry," Richard says. "I couldn't find a parking space."
"I don't want to hear your excuses," says Jolene. A crafty look spreads over her face. "What did you study, college boy?"
"Math," says Richard.
"Then why can't you read the numbers on a fucking clock?" Jolene brays laughter. She jabs a finger at the registers. Her rings glitter cheaply in the fluorescent lights. "Go relieve Ben at the register.
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