It is early in the morning time for Jaytech Johnston. He put a single rose on the grave and stood there for awhile, just to see it again and again. After a while, he said his prayers and walked away to his car and got in and drove it home. He popped some leftovers in the microwave, then stood there watching the plate turn ‘round and ‘round while it warmed. Jaytech ate his meal in the living room, flipping from channel to channel as he chewed his food. He washed the dishes in the quiet, the shoosh of the water from the tap and the clank of the plate on the counter the only sound to break the silence.
In the bathroom now, Jaytech ran a hand through his hair. He was a tall guy with black hair, and he kept it cut so short. He liked it that way. He will look in the mirror at himself and sometimes he is lost in what he sees in the mirror like he does not recognize his own face. Sometimes, a tear cries from his eye. So he sighs and wipes the tear from his face, washes his face. He’s so tired. Jaytech looks at the clock beside his bed. Maybe just a quick nap. Yeah, he feels like taking a nap. So he goes to the bed to sleep a while. While he is sleeping in the bed he has a dream and the dream is not comfortable for him. He tosses and turns in the bed, tangling his legs in the sheets. He sweats and he starts to hold his breath. In the dream, he cannot breathe. He wakes from sleep, screaming and gripping the edges of the bed. It is the same old dream, again and again that keeps coming to him when he is in the sleeping. Why does it keep coming back? He wants to think about it more, but has no time to think now. If he doesn’t hurry, he is going to be late for his classes now.