The apartment was hollow, with the drapes drawn close. Splinters of the evening sun drifted through. As the man walked through the dwelling, no audible voices echoed from the walls and ceiling. His toes and ankles cracked with each footfall. Engaging the lamp switch, the air conditioner bellowed to life. Draping the cavity of the structure in Arctic air.

Soft white light filled the master bathroom. Dark rings surrounded the man’s eyes as he gazed into the mirror. Fatigued was his body from the lack of sleep. Apprehensiveness pulsed through his veins as he tried to brush his teeth. The minutes ticked by. 

Undressing, the man started the shower. Steam copulated with the mirror before he entered. The hot water ran over achy muscles. Releasing the fragments of sorrow. He never imagined that he would be in this place. Especially after being away so long. The feeling of being alone is a foreign concept to him. When every waking moment of being surrounded by his family. Kids running around the apartment. Asking for his help or to play games. Intertwined with the mishaps of the one-year-old getting into an open bathroom to play in the toilet or tub. Giggles from the baby talking with his wife. Oh, his lovely wife was always there to be his foundation.  

They had been burying that foundation under a landslide of emotional despair. The hollowness of the apartment immortalized this feeling, like nails closing the lid on the coffin.  

The minutes continued to tick.

His stomach protested the lack of nourishment it had been receiving. Though he had been hungry, nothing sounded good or would satisfy. The intake of water and Nutrigrain bars had given him something. But the fatigue of sleep and food was getting to him and he knew this. 

As he sat in the shower, head resting against the wall. The siding of the shower wavered as if someone had opened and closed the front door. He could hear muffled voices coming from down the hall. The man lifted his head, straining to hear, but only the whoosh of water came. Lifting himself from the tub floor, he stuck his head out around the curtain. Listening for the voices. Nothing, no sound. The audible response from the phantasms lingered like the fading recollection of a dream. 

Once he had had enough of the shower. The man exited, dried, and dressed for work. Work like being at home was hollow. No sounds would echo through the building. Nor would there be any interaction with fellow co-workers who had earlier shifts. He would be alone, left to his area of work and earbuds. That apprehensive feeling grew and made his skin tighten across his body.

After tying his shoes, he lowered his head as he sat on his bed and took a deep breath. He could do this, he had to do this. He had to keep going. Had to be motivated to keep his sanity. The minutes ticked by and continued to tick. He got up from the bed and went back into the bathroom to find his medication. Undoing the cap from the bottle, he shook a pill into his hand. 

His phone buzzed on the counter with an incoming text message. Picking up the phone, he noticed it was from his wife. Briefly, he set the phone back down. Filled the cup next to the sink with water and took his pill. 

The text message asked him how he was doing. She couldn’t wait to see him in a few days because she and the kids missed him. That their week-long vacation was almost over. That she loved him and wanted to snuggle when she got home. He responded that he, too, missed them all very much and couldn’t wait to snuggle with her as well. 

The minutes ticked. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this and needed to do this. Soon they would be home.