Morning Has Broken

Max was having a very troubled day. It had been one of those mornings where he wished that he had slept through this reality and awoken in the next. Things were off-kilter and it felt like he was spiraling somewhere, even when he was standing still.

He closed his left eye and he could see straight and that feeling of falling was gone, until he opened it up again. It seemed like his optic nerves had crossed wires. He happened to find a patch to place over his eye.

When he went out the door of the apartment complex he was staying at, a cab zipped by and splashed him with a wall of water, soaking him to the gills. 

He grumbled and went back in to change. On the way up the stairs, some kids were moving a sofa and it had blocked the stairwell up to the apartment. 

Max took it as a sign that he should go back, so he went outside to continue on his way. In the exact same spot that he had gotten soaked, it was deja vu when another cab came by and did the exact same thing.

Max grumbled to himself.

He stopped off at the corner coffee shop to pick up a coffee and that's when an old lady dropped her coffee cup, and the contents spilled on Max's boots.

"I get it," Max replied to no one in particular. 

The old woman turned around with a look of shock on her face.

"I'm so sorry," the woman pleaded; she seemed frightened when she looked at the wet pirate staring back at her.

"Don't worry about it, ma'am," Max told her. "I'm just having a really off day."