It’s pitch black, dark as a grave, the only illumination coming from the red numbers on your alarm clock letting you know you’re three hours late for your temp job.
It happened again. You don’t remember doing it, but you must have turned off your alarm and instantly fallen back asleep, if you even woke up at all. That’s the effect of being someplace so dark that there’s no difference in perception whether your eyes are open or closed. It’s all blackness. It’s nothing.
You fling yourself out of bed and out your bedroom door, blinded by the light of late morning screaming through the living room windows. You don’t shower. Just a splash from the sink onto your armpits and face, then you slip into the shirt and tie bundled up on the floor before racing out the door to your temp job.
You get to the train platform. It’s near empty. This late in the morning it would be, wouldn’t it? You’re cursing yourself. This has to stop happening. You have to start sleeping with the bedroom door open, letting some light in, even though that means you’ll be dealing with your roommate’s video game noise in the living room all night. Better to have trouble sleeping than trouble waking up. This is the third time you’ve been this late for work and you’re not sure you’ll be given a fourth strike. You’re feeling crazed from the sudden jolt of wakefulness, but the adrenaline is starting to subside and you’re going to need coffee soon.
You peer down the tracks and look for the light of an oncoming train. Nothing. The older ladies in pretty dresses and hats are searching for a train too. There are a lot of older ladies in pretty dresses and hats. In fact, almost everyone on the platform except you looks dressed for church.
They are dressed for church.
Go home, close your bedroom door and go back to bed.
Happy No Windows Day!