5:59

I awoke before my alarm went off. It was 5:59. Only a minute before my alarm went off. Not even enough time to go back to sleep for a little bit. I begrudgingly rolled out of bed and began to get ready for work. I went to the bathroom, flicking the lights on. Only, they don’t turn on right away. I flipped the switch a couple of times in the hope they would turn on. After the third flip, they stuttered awake.

“Weird,” I mutter.

As I turned on the water, waiting for it to get to the temp I like, I heard a little buzz, almost like an old gas station bathroom light about to go out. I tried to put it out of my mind as I got in the shower. The buzzing got louder and louder as I showered. I peek my head around the curtain, trying to find where the sound is coming from. I see the lights above the mirror getting brighter and brighter before…. POP! The light bursts. Glass rains down into the sink and covers the bathroom floor, and the room plunges into blackness. I hurriedly finish up in the shower and tiptoe around the glass, back into my bedroom to change into scrubs for work.

After getting dressed, I look through my hall closet for new lights, and in the far back, I find the only ones left, bleak, yellow, fluorescent lights. I go into the bathroom, clean up the glass in the sink and on the floor, and put the new lights in. I flip the switch on, and the room begins to glow with a sad, desolate look. I brush my teeth and wash my face, finish my regular morning pre-work routine, and head out.

Outside, the sky is covered with dark rain clouds. It looks like it will be another dreary day. The sky looks as if it will crack open at any moment and open the floodgates. Thankfully, I’m able to make it to my car and all the way to work before the rain starts.

I walk into work, and at once it reminds me of my bathroom. Bleak, pale, desolate, yellow, fluorescent lighting. Disgusting. I don’t mind my job, but man. The lighting sucks ass. I get to my desk, hoping against hope that I don’t have any voicemails.

“Damn!” I exclaim when I see that terrible red light blinking.

“I hope it’s only a few,” I say aloud.

I entered the password for the machine.

“You have 18 new messages.” The machine responds.

I quickly hung up because I didn’t want to deal with it just yet. Instead, I open my email and hope I at least have fewer messages there. When the page finally loads, a big 24 is in red.

“That blows!” I exclaimed loudly.

It’s going to be a busy day for dry eyes, I suppose. I’m too tired to deal with all of it, but I don’t really have a choice. I head to the break room to get a glass of water before tackling all the messages. I put my cup under the dispenser and pressed the button, but nothing came out. Opening the bottom compartment, I can see that the water jug is full.

“What the hell?” I think.

I closed the door and tried the cold water again. Nothing. I pressed the middle button instead for room temperature water. Nothing. I tried the last one now. Hot, scalding water poured freely. Guess I’m having tea today. It’s not my favorite drink, but I’m thirsty, so it is what it is. I make my way back to my desk, glancing at the clock in the hallway to see what time it is. 8:17 AM. As my eyes move past the clock, it changes. 8:16. My eyes dart back to the clock. 8:17.

“What??”

I could have sworn it went back one minute. I stared at the clock, counting. After sixty seconds, it changes. 8:18.

“Must have been a trick of the light,” I say to myself.

Again, as I look away, it changes. 8:15. I look back quickly, 8:14, 8:13, 8:12, 8:11, 8:10, 8:09, 8:08, 8:07, 8:06, 8:05, 8:04, 8:03. It begins flying back, faster and faster, the numbers melting into each other. I squeeze my eyes hard and blink. 8:19. It feels like I’m going crazy. I wish someone were here so they could see what I just did. Maybe I’m just sleep-deprived or something. I try to put it out of my head and walk back to my desk. Putting the password into the answering machine, I settle in for what I expect to be a few hours of phone calls, emails, and repeated information.

Hours dissolve before me as I answer question after question on dry eyes. When I finally finish with the emails and voicemails, I see my coworker staring right at me. I make eye contact with them, and they quickly look away.

“What are you doing?” I ask them.

“What do you mean? I’m working.” They respond in turn.

“No, you were just looking at me.”

“No. I wasn’t. I’ve been looking at my computer for the last ten minutes.”

I looked over at their computer and saw nothing but a black screen. We argue back and forth for a couple of minutes before I give up. There’s no point in it. I get up from my desk and go to the kitchen for a little snack. Maybe I’m just hungry. I realized that I didn’t eat breakfast, so I grabbed a muffin and went back to my desk. Next to my phone, I saw a drink with a note attached.

DRINK ME TO ESCAPE. YOU ARE STUCK IN A DIFFERENT REALITY.

“What?” I ask aloud.

I look around, but my coworker is gone. I walk to the front desk, but no one is there either. Instead, I see the cup again, a different note attached this time.

DRINK ME. YOU ARE GLITCHING.

I get nervous. I didn’t put it there. I walk to the front door. It’s locked. My heart begins to race. I check the exam rooms. All empty. Doctors’ office. Empty. I ran back to my desk, and the cup was there with another new note attached.

DRINK ME. REMEMBER WHO YOU WERE BEFORE THE DRY EYE.

With nothing to lose, I raise the cup and take a sip.

I crumple to the floor, and the next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes, and I’m back in bed. I look over the clock. 5:59. Only a minute until my alarm sounds.