Another Late Night by Jonathan Harris

2:00 am, he still sits at his computer, finishing his paperwork he must turn into his boss first thing in the morning. The house is quiet except for the loud snoring of his wife and the soft breathing of his daughter down the hall. The two people that mean the most to him are lost in a heavenly slumber world of fantasy relaxing their stress while he lives in the real world spending his time working with pains in his neck from exhaustion, rushing to finish. Will he ever get to just close his eyes and relax? 3:00 am, barely half way done, he starts to think. He remembers the week before; he pulled three of these late nighters. Although he sacrificed a couple hours to finish, he sees his boss take a quick look and simply throw it into a filing cabinet the next morning. If only he knew it would just be tossed away never to be seen again, he would not have feared being fired and would have took his daughter out to ice cream like he promised or just lay down with his wife and enjoy the moment. Will he ever get his free time? He tells himself that if he stops putting the effort he does into his work, he could be fired for laziness, causing more stress than a couple late nights can cause. 3:30 am, he starts back up to his work, fearing he won’t finish and the chain of events that can happen soon after. Victimized by stress, enslaved by work, chained by fear. That is how it always was, ever since he was a teenager in high school. The same routine went out as he studied for tests and finished ten-page essays. Stuck in the cycle of school then. He would tell himself education should be cherished, there will be time to relax when he’s older. Stuck in the cycle of corporate America now. He tells himself he has a family to support, there will be time to relax when he’s retired. Will the cycle ever end? 3:50 am, still working, but being productive. He stops wondering and starts to focus. 4:15 am, he finally finishes. Relieved to be done, he steps outside, sits on the steps in front of his house, and lights up a cigarette while he enjoys the mood of the early morning mist. He takes a look at the watch on his left hand and lets out a sigh. 4:20 am. He walks back to his bedroom and tries to enjoy his two hours of sleep. 6:30 am, he wakes up, crushed by the premature termination of his dream. Will he ever get to have a long sleep? 7:25 am, he kisses his wife and daughter and rushes to the office before a quarter til so he won’t be late. 7:46, he is officially late, parks his car across the street, and immediately jumps out of the car. He shuts the door and runs across the street. At that same second, a car turns around the corner. The car crashes. The man falls. 7:47. Both the man and his briefcase lie only a few feet in front of the man’s office, the paperwork from last night scattered across the street and starting to blow away in the wind. Ironically, his body lays fully relaxed with his eyes closed and his limbs to his side. He has all the free time he can ever have now. The cycle has finally ended. He can have a nice long sleep… now that he is dead.