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Anthology of the Mundane and the AnomalyMark checks the windows if they’re locked and grabs his wallet before he shuts the door of his apartment, the beep assuring him that the door is locked. He turns the knob seven times to make sure that it really is locked (he never really trusts the contraption mounted on his door). Going out of your house in the middle of the night, at exactly twenty minutes before midnight, wasn’t a very bright idea. Mark thinks that having a shortage on groceries in the middle of the night wasn’t also a bright idea; so he decides that it’s better to get out of his house than wake up without a single cup of instant ramen mounted on the cupboard.
He tries to keep a list on what he’ll buy on his head as he walks down the empty streets; milk, a box of cereals, instant ramen, eggs, and maybe shampoo because he already used the last drop of the bottle he’s currently using. Mark thinks about the mundane things he’s been cramping into the little apartment he could afford; moving his fingers every time he calls out each one of them in his head, as if counting.
The atmosphere is chilly with the winter breeze rolling in. Mark sniffles as the wind brushes past him. ‘I think I need another layer of clothing.’ He muses as he walks past rows of closed stores, restaurants and coffee shops. The street lamp flickers above his head as he passes the pastry shop just beside the grocery store. The doors slide open and the cashier greets him. Mark greets back and heads to the aisle where the milk is first and grabs one and heads to another aisle for the others on his list. It didn’t take him longer than fifteen minutes to complete his shopping and he checks out the items he’s got.
“Thank you.” He tells the lady with a smile. The cashier thanks him too, and Mark is out on the street once again; grocery bag hanging on both hands.
The walk to his apartment was shorter. And by the time he arrived on the fourth floor, his neighbor, a lady on her early thirties who works as a teacher at the high school nearby, was by his door. She seems to be worried about something so Mark approaches her in a haste.
“Is something wrong?” he asks her.
“I heard something crash in your room so I came to check if you were okay.” Her tone was worried.
“Oh, it might just be a stray animal. There’s a lot of them these days, crashing into homes and all.” Mark assures his neighbor, not wanting to deal with her for too long. She seems to buy the excuse and goes back to her own room; telling Mark she was still grading papers.
By the time she’s out of sight, Mark looks at the doorknob with suspicion. He wasn’t even buying his own excuse because the probability of an animal crashing into your own house was really slim.
‘Animals rarely come by this area.’ He thinks, ‘and for it to create a loud noise must be because it’s a pretty large body.’
Mark ponders if he really should unlock his door. For all he knows, it might be a burglar who’s already stationed at his door, ready to attack him. ‘Stupid. I really should just get in.’
He enters the code for his room and the lock beeps as his door opens. Mark let his hand in first as it feels for the light switch nearby.
The room was filled with eerie silence, making Mark think that he’s in some sort of suspense thriller movie, although it’s not. He sets down the groceries on the floor as he quickly takes off his shoes and wedges it between his doors; just to make sure that if it is a burglar, he could run for his life.
Mark’s steps are silent and he squints at the darkness. He keeps one hand on the wall, feeling for the switch again, and his eyes on his surroundings. He has no weapon with him so he’ll have to resort to hitting the burglar with his groceries, just in case.
It took him good three minutes to locate the switch in complete darkness. He usually doesn’t take this long and Mark curses himself for taking time. And as his fingers slide on the switch, light floods his apartment room.
“What the hell?”
The last time Mark checked, his windows weren’t broken and there wasn’t a man lying on his apartment floor.
“This has got to be a really sick joke.” Mark mutters beneath his breath as he quickly gets to the kitchen to set down the groceries on the counter and grab a rolling pin nearby. Knives were out of
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