John (Part 1)

John found himself lying awake at what he thought was morning. His eyes weren’t open yet but he could feel the warmth of daylight coming through the window hitting his face. He decided it was best to try and ignore the calling of the morning sun and return to the dream he had emerged from.

“What was I just dreaming about” he thought to himself.

John let out a long irritated sigh, rolled over to his side and buried his face in his pillow. He had forgotten what he had dreamt about but he knew somehow that it was something good. The resonance of feeling that lingers after a good dream toyed with John but made the process of waking up all the more frustrating. He hugged his pillow tightly and continued to bury his face further into his pillow to help him forget that it was morning. Something, however, wasn’t right. The alarm clock that went off every morning at the same time wasn’t buzzing. No, it wasn’t that. Was it the absence of the smell of coffee? Had he forgotten to set his coffee maker the night before? No, it wasn’t that either. Consciousness suddenly flooded his mind and thoughts were rushing in and out of his mind. John felt something deeply wrong in his gut. It became a knotted feeling. And then, it hit him. John had absolutely no idea what day of the week it was.
John was a farmer. He lived alone on a small piece of land that had an incredible view of a mountain range. His farm consisted of nine pigs, one horse, two cows, and a dozen of chickens. There was a narrow gravel road that extended from his house for about 10 miles before it hit a local road. Every single day since John purchased the farm and his livestock, woke up at 5:00 a.m. not a minute too late, put some clothes on, went downstairs to his kitchen and poured himself some coffee that he had set to automatically start brewing at 4:50 a.m. the night before. He wasn’t much of a breakfast eater because it upset his stomach and he didn’t like the feeling of an upset gut in the morning. John would sit out on his porch on a bench he had built himself and took deep breathes while sipping his steaming coffee. John would return to his kitchen and wash out his cup and hang it on a bent nail above his sink. One nail, one coffee mug. He then put on his thick leather work boots and set out to tend to different chores around the farm depending on the day of the week. Every day of the week was different. Monday, John would go to the cows and check their health followed by gathering one pail of milk. Tuesday, John would clean out the pig pens. Wednesday, he would count the chickens. On Thursday, John would lay down fresh hay in the stable. On Friday, John would ride his horse to the river and fish for salmon. Saturday, John went into town to buy his bottle of whiskey. And on Sunday, John would sit in his house and stare at small picture frame sitting on the mantle of his fireplace and empty his bottle of whiskey. This was John’s pattern of living every single week. The moment John opened his eyes in the morning he knew what day of the week it was without having to look at a calendar or even think about it.
However, today John simply could not figure out which day of the week it was.

John frantically got out of bed and rushed down the stairs.

“Damn, I need a shirt” he thought to himself.

John rushed back upstairs to his room and grabbed a button up shirt that was hanging off a nail on the wall. He quickly put it on and rushed back down the stairs. He looked at the coffee maker; there was no coffee in it. John tore the lid of the coffee maker open and there were no coffee grounds or a filter. Anxiety overtook John. He then sat down at his small wooden dining table and began to think.

“What did I do yesterday” he thought as if it would clue him in on what day it was.

“Did I go into town? Did I have my whiskey? Did I clean out the…” he couldn’t remember.

The more John tried to remember, the more confused he became. John got up and started looking through his cabinets and drawers. Most of them were empty save some canned foods and mismatched utensils. He was looking for a calendar. In the cabinet right above his refrigerator John found a small black book that read “Planner” on the front of it. John opened it and flipped through the pages in search of the date. However, soon after John began his search he realized that he never kept track of the date, just the day of the week.

Feeling defeated, John slid to the ground with his back to the refrigerator and hugged his knees. He didn’t know what to do next. He felt anxious and afraid. After staring blankly into space for some time he thought of something.