The Cube

Bill had been a doorman at the Watson building for 30 years. He had seen all that Chicago had to offer, and was glad to be retiring. The last day on the job was something he had been counting down to for the last fifteen years or so. Today was that day. He intended to walk the long way home today, through the park and down Michigan Avenue. He would enjoy that walk immensly.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Denotsko." he said as she left the building with her children.

"Hi Bill. Last day huh. I hope you and your wife enjoy your time off."

"Oh, we definitely will Mrs. D." he lied.

His wife was a shrew. He hated her. He had been fantasizing about putting he dismembered body in the freezer for years. Why couldn't he have married a woman like Mrs. D? She was all he wanted. He felt his soul burn when he thought about that dipshit she was stuck with. That ass was on vacation for the first time in ten years, and was upstairs in the apartment. Why was she going out alone with the kids? He should have taken her to the tropics. He watched her with the pain of love missed as she walked toward the park with her children. Why did he have go home to that witch every night? Why was his life so empty?

Upstairs, Mr. D. Was working. What had brought him to this? It seemed that he would be able to relax on his time off; but here he was. This thing had been perfectly arranged a month ago, and now it was chaos. His compulsive nature would not allow him to put it down.

He was two hours into the task now. Had he even made any progress? Not by the looks of things. He thought that looking at it from different angles would help; but it was a mess from every side. It wasn't even possible to scrap it and start from the beginning. He needed coffee.

From the kitchen, he could see it through the doorway. This thing was going to make him have a breakdown. Why was he wasting his vacation like this? Why can't he just let it go? The more he hovered over the project, the more it ate at him. There was no escaping the grip it had on him. She had told him to let it go or she would leave without him, and she did. He didn't even know where she went.

Turning his back on it, he looked out the window. It was a long way down to the street below. Sixteen stories of mystery cubicles is what Bill had once called this building. And this was the worst one. Bill once told him that in his time at the door, three men had plunged to their deaths from this very window. What could make a man do that? He leaned out and watched the traffic creep by, imagining the trip down. It made him turn away from the window in fright. What was that thought that had flashed for a second? Had he considered jumping? He could see himself standing on the ledge, leaning out until gravity took hold. Breathing in the cool wind as he fell through it.

He almost sprinted back into his office. He had to finish this thing and get on with his life. He could do it if he just focused on one side at a time. That was the only way to get this done.

Time moved slowly as he worked. He could not get the image he saw at the window out of his brain. He found himself making excuses to go to the kitchen. The window was closed now; but he could open it easily with just one hand. Would anyone even care if he did it? The impact would definitely not go unnoticed. How could it? It's the kind of thing that would do damage. What would it do to a passing car? Just then, the decision was made. His family wouldn't even notice the loss.

Bill was counting the minutes now. Forty-seven minutes till the last of his days. He was across the street now having a smoke with Frank from the Parker building. As he eyed the building that had paid for his home and put two kids through rehab, he could see what looked like Jake Denotsko standing in his window.

"What the fuck is he doing?" he mumbled to the wind.

That was when the fall began. Bill could see the silhouette against the clouds reflecting off the windows. It was really moving fast. Too fast to comprehend. The fall took two seconds till impact. When the falling body hit the pavement, pieces were thrown hundreds of feet. The little colored cubes flew like popcorn as it exploded.

On the wind, Bill could barely hear a scream. The voice was shrieking what sounded like " Burn in hell Rubic's Cube!"