THE MAN WITHOUT YESTERDAY

Part 5--- who m I ?

After a few moments of adjusting to the dimness, the items around me gradually began to emerge from the darkness, like boulders emerging through dispersing mist.

To my right, against the far wall, stood my desk, a constant companion in my late-night endeavours. On it lay my laptop, closed but with a small, blinking light indicating it was still on, perhaps downloading updates or simply in sleep mode. Scattered around it were various trinkets of my daily life: a cluster of pens, a notepad filled with scribbled thoughts and to-do lists, and a half-empty mug from the coffee I had earlier that evening.

Across from the bed, a modest wardrobe stood, its doors slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of neatly hung clothes. Next to it, an armchair was draped with a cosy blanket, its fabric slightly ruffled, a testament to its frequent use during my reading sessions.

Bleary-eyed and disoriented, I gradually woke and moved from the comfort of my bed, inching towards the window. The curtains hung partially open, obscuring my view of the external world. Drawing them back and opening the window, a refreshing breeze kissed my moist, salty cheeks, infusing my being with the fresh, invigorating air. This moment of renewal was a welcome relief after a draining day's work.

Beyond my window, the night was only occasionally interrupted by lit windows in neighbouring homes. My curiosity was piqued, leading me to speculate about the activities of those awake at this unearthly hour. My thoughts ran rampant with scenarios. Perhaps there was a family engrossed in dinner-time stories and mirth. It could be that a couple was lost in a candlelit evening, enjoying wine and gentle conversation. Or, someone might have been burning the midnight oil, racing against time to meet a looming deadline or wrap up a task.

Winding through the city, the streets lay bathed in the eerie luminescence of sparse streetlights, casting serpentine shadows. Despite the advanced hour, or rather, the early onset of morning, a handful of figures navigated the dimly lit sidewalks, each step in the cool air and gentle breeze soothing my spirit and dissipating the remnants of a disturbing dream.

I left the window open, lettin the night air drift in, and walked back to my bed. Sitting on the sweat-soaked sheets, I paused for a moment, casting a glance around the room once more. It was then that it struck me with a jolt of clarity - neither the room nor its contents were mine. The desk, with its scattered array of items – the laptop, the notebooks strewn across its surface – all of it felt alien, as if I was looking at a scene from someone else's life. The familiarity I had felt earlier was now replaced by a profound sense of displacement, a realisation that I was an intruder in this unexpectedly foreign space.

Where in the world was this place, and how had I ended up in this unfamiliar room? My mind whirled as I buried my face in my hands, struggling to sift through the foggy remnants of the previous night. Memories eluded me, slipping through my grasp like shadows at dusk.

Maybe I ventured to a pub with a friend. The night had unfolded in a blur of laughter and clinking glasses, each drink leading us further into a carefree oblivion. We must have lost ourselves in the revelry, surrendered so completely to the night that all sense of time and responsibility faded away. I was a ship adrift in a sea of intoxication, incapable of steering myself home. One of my buddies must have felt sorry for me, seeing how I was barely holding up. He or she did not want to leave me alone at home, so they brought me to theirs instead. The way it looked indicated that it was a cosy bedroom rather than a frigid hotel room.

The thought of waking them up crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed the idea. Intruding into someone's bedroom to ask where I am was out of the question. The person who brought me here might still be asleep, potentially with their partner, and possibly in an intimate moment. The idea of knocking on their door to inquire about my location during such a time seemed utterly inappropriate.