Hall of Infinite Doors
He left the library in a good mood. He could now add Spam to his song he was writing. He realized he left his notebook in the library, so he went and got it and returned home with it. He sat down and started a new song which he named the Spam Jam. He liked the title, but he didn't have any music for it. He'd do it later, he decided. He spent the rest of the day wandering the town and listening to other musicians and hanging outside of bars. He didn't feel like getting any clothing today because the last Friday he had taken a lot and the manager spoke with him about it. The manager was nice enough about it, but explained the clothes where there to attract customers, and unless he was planning on buying something, he shouldn't touch the clothing.
Instead, he left the area and went for a stroll. His stroll was a good one and he very nearly got lost. If he hadn't spotted a familiar road he then followed back home, he might have stayed somewhere else for the night. He had done this before and he did on occasion just to change things up, but he always brought his stuff with him. His stomach growling was a sign he needed to be home soon. He got home in time and dinner appeared in a Styrofoam box outside his home. It was very warm still, and he suspected it had just been dumped.
He ate slowly and enjoyed his meal, a mixture of everything that was 30 minutes too old for the people inside the restaurant. They didn't seem to know that food was still nourishing even after a half an hour's time. He worked more on his Spam song and even thought up a few guitar riffs to go with it. After that, he fell to sleep quite easily, although tonight was usually a night he stayed up to play music because of all the noise the town made. Friday nights seemed especially loud because traffic was heavy and there were a lot of bars open that were packed with people who all had something to say.
He had a dream that night, but upon waking was unable to determine what the dream was about. He felt a little ill, and had a slight fever. He had a few aches, too, which he suspected where from traveling so much the day before. John reminisced about his old life where everything was free for him and his parents payed for everything. It was a nice way to live, but his parents must have hated it. He knew he'd never have a kid, not that he'd want one. Kids where the most expensive thing there is, he knew. He waited until his headache was gone, but still felt unwell, so he didn't bother to eat or write in his notebook.
Instead, he left the area and went for a stroll. His stroll was a good one and he very nearly got lost. If he hadn't spotted a familiar road he then followed back home, he might have stayed somewhere else for the night. He had done this before and he did on occasion just to change things up, but he always brought his stuff with him. His stomach growling was a sign he needed to be home soon. He got home in time and dinner appeared in a Styrofoam box outside his home. It was very warm still, and he suspected it had just been dumped.
He ate slowly and enjoyed his meal, a mixture of everything that was 30 minutes too old for the people inside the restaurant. They didn't seem to know that food was still nourishing even after a half an hour's time. He worked more on his Spam song and even thought up a few guitar riffs to go with it. After that, he fell to sleep quite easily, although tonight was usually a night he stayed up to play music because of all the noise the town made. Friday nights seemed especially loud because traffic was heavy and there were a lot of bars open that were packed with people who all had something to say.
He had a dream that night, but upon waking was unable to determine what the dream was about. He felt a little ill, and had a slight fever. He had a few aches, too, which he suspected where from traveling so much the day before. John reminisced about his old life where everything was free for him and his parents payed for everything. It was a nice way to live, but his parents must have hated it. He knew he'd never have a kid, not that he'd want one. Kids where the most expensive thing there is, he knew. He waited until his headache was gone, but still felt unwell, so he didn't bother to eat or write in his notebook.