Maybe Someday

Roll 1 Scene 1 - A Normal Day

June 9th, 2019

6.30 am

THUNK!

The clock fell to the ground face first. With a whizz, it started its march again.

Groaning, he turned to the other side of the bed, covering his face with the pillow. The alarm continued to ring from the ground with as much perseverance as before.

"Someone make it stop," he mumbled in a hoarse voice as his hand reached out for the clock. It fumbled, looking for the villain antagonizing his sleep.

Happy, his tabby cat, got up from her pillow. With a single jump, she was off the bed and making her way to the door. She knew how long it would take for him from her years of experience. She would rather not waste her sleep over his incompetence to turn off a single alarm.

She hissed when she saw the clock at the foot of the bed, rolling around; her tail giving it a flick. It hit the nearby drawer with another thunk, yet the ringing didn't stop.

She didn't like that clock at all.

It was a gift from a fan that he had gotten years ago after he missed his book signing once. He overslept.
It was custom-made with a steel body and wheels. Once it started to ring, the wheels would push it forward. It would run all over the room, ringing until he placed it back on the snooze post, which he kept in the other room for no apparent reason.

He loved vexing himself.

He sat up, eyes still closed, as his hands went over his face with a groan.

He was exhausted. Exhausted because he was up till the crack of dawn, drafting the new book idea he got while playing games. Spending the entire night jotting down everything. Taking that one line and turning it into a 350-page worth of story to tell.

It was his favorite part of being a writer.

7.00 am

He was finally out of the house. The morning air was cold as he made his way to the main coast.

Most of the shops were still closed, but some were getting ready to open their doors. It was a small city, with small businesses and a small population. Life here was simple and peaceful. He preferred it. It gave him a chance to sit down and write.

To breathe.

But it was the view of the sun hitting the waves at sunrise and sunset that he loved. That shade of pale orange always reminded him of her. Her wild, sun-kissed hair in the wind.

8.40 am

The jog always turned into a walk on his way home.

A lazy long saunter through the coastline. From the distance, he could see the fish harbor. Trawlers coming back from the night at the sea. Like a flock of birds, they gathered at the pier waiting for the boats to come back. Westport was famous for its seafood for being both cheap and fresh.

He sat on one of the rocks, listening to the wind. The sky was in the perfect shade of blue and the cold coastal air tickled its way through him.

For the third time today, he wished she was here with him. She always wanted to live by the sea. And he knew that she would have loved this view.

He sighed as his finger threaded through his copper hair, pushing it off his eyes.

It needed a trim.

9.30 am

The shop's doorbell jingled as he opened the door. It was an old diner, run by a grandmother and her grandson. The decor was in the 70s retro theme, mixed with bright peachy colors and white ceramic tiles with pink grout. The south-facing windows gave an ample amount of light to make the place stay illuminated even without the funky lights on top.
Compared to the other shops around the neighborhood, it was older and less trendy. Though in comparison, it was more popular. The famous on-house maple pancakes would bring patrons around the country for a taste.