Don woke up on the wrong side of the bed, literally. His bed was against the far wall which was painted a deep navy blue. He required his sleeping lair to be cave-like, since he liked to go to bed in the wee hours of the morning and wake up whenever the heck he felt like it. Alarm clocks be damned.
"Ouch" he grumbled as his head hit the wall with a thud. Half asleep he rolled the other way and attempted to find his slippers. Stretching his long legs he slowly got out of bed and then remembered it was Tuesday. He sighed, "I hate Tuesdays."
He hated Tuesdays because that was when the bitch and a half, Janice, would leave another passive aggressive note on his door complaining that his video games were too loud after 10pm. Who goes to bed at 10pm anyways? Only goodie two shoes that's who.
He kicked a pizza box, as he snaked his way through the small one bedroom apartment to the closet sized bathroom. It didn't even have a window, that's why it was so cheap to rent. He had neighbors surrounding him. Above, below, as well as, on either side, and he could hear everything. For once he was glad he was a loner, so no one could complain about him, even though Janice did.
Don washed his face, brushed his teeth, and attempted to comb his hair with his fingers, before he gave up and put on a hat. He then went back to the bedroom to put on his patchwork jeans, and a t-shirt that said: "Byte Me." He had to smell quite a few shirts before he decided that was the freshest. He found some not too funky socks and laced up his converses. He was going to own today.
He whistled as he locked the door. He looked around to make sure that no one was out there, and then walked up the stairs that lead to the roof, looking to get some fresh air and say hi to the birds. Lately, he got along better with animals then he did adults. They didn't judge him. They just were themselves.
However, as he opened the door and stepped out on the roof, he noticed that something felt off. Then it hit him. It was way too quiet. Where were all the birds? They were usually whistling and going about their birdie business, but today it was silent. No sounds what so ever. Don stopped and asked himself, "did I just enter another dimension?" He couldn't answer the question, but he couldn't avoid it either. He had the sinking feeling that up on that rooftop there was just something different, something off, something that ate birds for dinner, perhaps? It was a question that popped into his mind and then just as quickly, disappeared.
Then he had another thought, that maybe whatever it was ate Janice, and he wouldn't have to deal with her nonsense when he got back from Ubering around, just maybe. He then shook his head, opened the door, and started to go back down stairs to see if Mr. Mayland, the building supervisor, knew anything about the birds.
One thing Don was absolutely certain of was that this was no ordinary Tuesday.
