Heyeveryonelookthisgoesattheendofyetanothernewstory

And then everything stopped mattering. The harmful effects of cigarettes, endless court battles, bottling up emotions; it all quit. It was as if reason was sick of trying, had packed house and left. Everyone else was still working, still earning thin slips of colored paper that they then gave in exchange for things, or put aside for later until they boasted a mountain of thin slips. When the week started again, everyone else complained about Mondays as they heaved off of their mattresses. Nez was unaware that it was Monday again, or that he should complain about it. He sat in front of the four-pane window in his room for most of Monday morning, then was asked if he wanted anything for breakfast. Nez said that he would, and promptly forgot all about breakfast. A tray of eggs, toast, and bacon with a glass of milk was placed on his lap and he ate until his body told him it didn't need to eat any more. Some people came by to visit Nez, but they only peeked in through his open door and Nez was still at the window. The people had come to visit with Nez, but every time they saw him they told themselves it was too hard and promptly left. Nez, because he was facing the window, never knew that anyone had visited him in the first place, and so was never saddened at this. What was there to be sad of anymore? What was Monday?