Brad blinked his eyes, looked around; he was in his home office staring at his own image in the computer screen. He felt disoriented, like waking up from a heavy sleep where it takes you a few minutes to remember you had fallen asleep on the couch watching Wheel of Fortune. It didn’t feel like where he should be, but it was familiar.

            “You need to get that sorted by the end of the day Brad,” his boss was saying, his tiny image on the computer screen looked stern. “By the end of the day,” he repeated to hammer the point.

“Of course,” Brad said. “I’ll get right on that. Thank you for the opportunity to correct this matter.” He was going to continue but the call was disconnected. He closed his laptop and cursed. Could this day get any worse? he wondered. He checked his watch and it seemed as good a time as any to break for lunch. He needed it after getting chewed out by his boss, and his boss’ boss. He had the whole day to correct the issue. He wanted something that would bring him some joy, and he knew just the thing too. He opened up the refrigerator and searched the shelves. He grabbed the things that stood out that he needed; the mayonnaise, the mustard, some cheese, lettuce, deli meats; he had some spicy genoa salami, some prosciutto, some shaved black forest ham, and some sliced buffalo chicken. It seemed a bit overkill, but that was what he needed right now. He grabbed a tomato and paused, reconsidered, would it make the sandwich too soggy? It might, but the solution was simple, toast the bread first to give it some more stability. Problem solved. He laid everything out on the counter before it spilled from his hands. The jar of mayonnaise tipped over and began rolling for the edge of the counter, but he grabbed it before it fell. He organized everything, grabbed a knife from the drawer and stabbed it into the mayonnaise, ready to spread a healthy slop on the…

… shit, he forgot the bread.

He searched around in the cupboards, checked the refrigerator again thinking he might have tried to elongate the best before date. Nothing.

Dammit.

It wasn’t the end of the world; he had to remind himself of that. In fact, there was a painfully obvious solution – it was just one that he didn’t want to admit to. He could walk up to the store on the corner and buy a new loaf of bread, one that wasn’t riddled with mold. He checked his watch; he still had time before anyone thought to ask where he was. His boss had just taken a strip off him, so he’d be busy for the rest of the day grovelling up to his own boss. He had to make those corrections on the monthly report that he had apparently done wrong, even though he had been doing it the same way for three years, but he would be back in time to make those corrections. Time wasn’t an issue; more than anything, he didn’t want to leave the house and risk even more going wrong today.

He looked out. The sun was shining; birds and squirrels were congregating in the trees. He opened the window to smell the air. He could see smoke rising up from backyards, smell the BBQ’s, people who had not been conned into working on a summer weekend. For all intents and purposes, it was a beautiful day.

He didn’t trust it. It was looking too comfortable and peaceful for it to be reality. He had the notion that as soon as he stepped outside everything would change. He looked back to the counter and all he had taken out of the refrigerator for his lunch, pictured all the meats and cheeses stacked up between two pieces of freshly toasted bread, sauces oozing out and dripping on the plate. His stomach started to growl and no promise he made seemed to pat it back down again, except one; and that as trekking to the bakery to get a fresh loaf.

He was growing determined. He was hungry and he had to eat. He looked out the window again and the day seemed to be holding up. He put a pair of pants on, and then his shoes, and ventured outside. Two steps out, down to the front walkway, he looked around convinced that there was still time for something to happen. He had expected the sun to dip away, and dark clouds come rolling in and cover him in rain. But the skies were still clear and the sun shining. Things were looking up and he began to think that maybe today was going to be a better day then he anticipated. A rough start but that just meant that there was room for improvement.

He reached the sidewalk and turned right to head to the top of the street where the bakery was. His neighbour Janice two houses down was outside working on her garden, pulling out giant weeds that screamed in anger and begged for mercy as she threw them into the compost bag. They had only had a few interactions before, and they mostly consisted of her yelling at him for not shovelling his walkway properly in the winter and how she almost fell and broke her hip. He had tried to avoid her ever since, and he approached with caution.

She saw him walking and stood up. He almost stopped where he was, turned around, and ran back to his house. Then he remembered the sandwich, took a breath, and continued on. She took off her gloves and walked towards the road to intercept him. He quickened his pace, pretending not to notice her. She took off her sunglasses and began calling his name.

“Brad! Brad!” she started to hustle to match his pace and catch him. “Brad!” He tried to keep going, pretend that he hadn’t seen or heard her. But she caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm. “Brad, didn’t you hear me

calling you?”

Her voice was sweet, genial, not at all the same person that he had interacted with less than six months ago. and he looked around wondering if she had been talking to someone else. “Hi Janice, sorry, I’m a little lost in my own world. Need to pick up some bread from up the street.”

“Oh, no trouble. I just wanted to say hi, and see how your summer was going. Speaking of bread though, that reminds me, I’ve got something for you. Wait right here.” She disappeared into the house and came back a moment later with a small jar. “Its marmalade, made from the orange tree in my back yard. I’ve got a few jars left and thought you might like some. Tastes real good on toast.”

He took the jar and inspected it. It glistened bright, neon orange in the sunlight. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

She smiled. “Anyway, I better let you get on your way. I’ve got a few more weeds here to pull up before I take a break. Left them too long and they started to breed. If I’m not careful the rest of my garden will be screaming for water because the weeds are taking it all. Have a great day.” She retreated back to her garden. The bag of compost rustled, a small voice rose up from the bag, and she kicked it to keep it down.

Brad continued on up the street with the jar in his hand. He began to re-evaluate his relationship with his neighbour. Maybe he had been too cold in the moment, and maybe she had not been as mean as he remembered. She wasn’t the vicious monster he had remembered her to be, and he decided that he was going to try a little harder next winter to keep his walkway clear. Now he had a jar of marmalade. Not only was the day not as bad as he had originally thought it was going to be, but it was also turning out to be quite a bit better.

And that thought made him suspicious again. If things were going this well, then something was bound to happen soon. The scales had to be balanced, and he was aware more than ever now.

He continued up the street, his eyes darting everywhere to try and catch it before it happened. He saw a neighbour across the street mowing his lawn and he thought the blade might come lose, fly across the street, and hit him. A car backfired and startled a flock of birds that erupted from a tree. He was certain that one of them, or all of them, were about to shit on him. He’d be covered and would have to walk home with everyone seeing him and smelling him. But that didn’t happen either.

He got to the top of the street, the convenience store kitty corner form him, with the bakery tucked inside. He looked all around him, waiting for something to happen. He had to cross the street twice to get there, but it would be quicker if he could cut diagonally. He was certain again that as soon as he began the move something would happen. A hidden cop would bust him for jaywalking, or a vehicle would peel around the corner and hit him, sending him flying over the hood and breaking his legs, shattering them into pieces.

He looked up at the crossing light. It still hadn’t changed. He looked around again; there were still no cars coming. He decided to chance it. He kept his eyes peeled, his head darting around as he tried to keep an eye in every direction.

He made it to the opposite corner, and no cars had come by, and there was no cop waiting for him there to write him a ticket. Everything was working out, and his heart was feeling a little lighter. He walked into the convenience store with his head a little higher as he began to strut through to the bakery to grab a loaf of sourdough.

He started to think that maybe he needed to work on his outlook. He had been so certain earlier that the day was out to get him, that everything was stacked against him and the world was going to bend him over. But time and again he had been proven wrong. Not only was the world not trying to fuck him, but things had really been working out in his favour. The sun was shining, the birds chirping, and he was getting ready to enjoy a great lunch. Life was good.

Life was going so well that day that he decided to indulge a little more. He picked up a pack of beef jerky, and no trip to the convenience store was complete without a slushie.

He got up to the cash and placed all the items on the counter. He could feel the big, stupid grin on this face, but he couldn’t help it anymore. The cashier totaled up his items and told him the price. He reached into his pocket for his wallet and found the pocket empty. He patted it, shoved his whole hand in as if it was bigger than it was, and there would be a secret compartment if he just pushed hard enough. When that didn’t produce his wallet he checked his other pockets, first patting them and then reaching in as if it could be hidden in there. Then he retraced his steps through the store, panicking now that he had dropped it somewhere and a stranger had picked it up and was going to steal his identity.

He got back up to the cash register, his eyes searching around as if he was going to see it tucked in with the candy bars or stuck in with the lottery tickets.

“Everything all right sir?” the attendant asked.

“No, no it’s not. I seem to have lost my wallet. I can’t pay for any of this.” And now he was twice as nervous, expecting the cashier to make a big deal about it; it wasn’t as if they could pour the slushie back into the machine. That was product wasted.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, happens to the best of us. Take the stuff, you can pay for it next time you come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I recognize you. You’re in here like once a week at least. Listen, just don’t panic. All the cards can be replaced; it’s a pain in the ass, but not the end of the world. You probably just left it on the kitchen counter or something. If not, well you can get home quick so you can cancel your credit cards.”

“That’s great, that’s really great,” Brad was stuttering and repeating as he gathered up his stuff and made for the door: “You’re right, it’s probably still back at home. I probably just forget it this morning. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” He was backing up out the door with the food in his hands.

If that was going to be it, then that wasn’t too bad at all. Once he had a moment to relax and think about it, he was almost certain that he could see the wallet on his dining room table where he always left it at the end of the day. It was an automatic reflex, but he couldn’t remember grabbing it that morning when he left.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down and continued home. Worrying about it now wasn’t going to fix anything, wasn’t going to make it magically appear in his pocket. But if the day’s track record was anything, then he knew he would get home and find it there where he had left it the night before. It was all going to work out and having that mindset felt a lot better than expecting the worst. And the cashier was right – there was only a couple of bucks in actual money, and the cards could be replaced.

The day had been a lesson for him. Just because it had stated out kind of negative didn’t mean the whole day would be a write off. The day can really turn around with the right attitude.

He walked into his place, and sure enough his wallet was on the dining room table where he left it. Perfect.

He walked through the house with the loaf of bread, whistling, excited to finally build and then devour his epic sandwich for lunch. He rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen…

… and found a family of raccoons on his counter, devouring the food he had left out. The package for the meat had been torn open and was littered all over the floor with bits of meat still inside. One raccoon was chewing on the head of lettuce, the plastic wrapping still on it. Another had bitten into the mustard bottle and had bright yellow mustard staining its face and hands.

“Fuck this day.”