Sitting in a restaurant never patronised, consuming a meal of items never previously tasted, Andrew Barker was unsure if he liked the place, the food...and pondered if he were an android.
He had sat at that table for two hours. No one noticed him. His plate remained on the table, his coffee cup remained unfilled. He tried to comprehend the antecedents which had led him here. Tried to recall sickness or injury which preceded his erratic behaviour. The next possibility was that he needed psychiatric care.
He rather be an android.
Andrew should be at his desk, at work, doing something instead of sitting here. But he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want anything but this sudden sense of himself.
He thought about getting drunk or high and experiencing a different level of awareness, but had never been drunk nor gotten high.
He didn’t want to return to the office. He never wanted to return to being that invisible man. Nor did he wish to go to the place he listed as home. He could not bear to return there as his wife and child had abandoned him.
Andrew Barker tried to grasp how his life, or what he thought was life, had turned into an illusion.
Andrew Barker reflected on the abnormality. It had begun Monday evening as he returned from work. He had arrived at his usual time, thinking his usual thoughts, unlocked the door, entered the house and made his; "Hi Honey, I'm Home!" bleat.
Oddly, there was only silence. He looked around, noticed things seemed to be missing. A painting, a vase...then there was a knock at the door. He opened it, and a man he had never seen before asked if he were Andrew Barker.
"Yeah..."
"You've been Served!" the man said, pushing the divorce into his hands.
Andrew looked at the document. Looked at it so long that when he finally came to now the man was gone and his legs were feeling weak.
Andrew stumbled inside, flopped on a chair, disoriented. After a time, he tried to read the document, had to put on the light. He sat there, unable to grasp the fact that his wife was divorcing him. The list of his his 'crimes' went from abandonment to neglect from abuse to cruelty. Paragraph after paragraph of his flaws and faults about things he had no memory of, actions she had never mentioned.
At some point he must have dropped asleep for he woke cramped and confused. He looked at the time; it was past nine in the morning. He should have arrived at the office by eight thirty.
How long had he slept?
He phoned his wife, the number was blocked. He would have called her friends but didn't have their numbers.
He told himself to go to work.
By the time he got up, showered, dressed, it was close to eleven. He reached work by noon. He walked in, ready to explain why he was late, but no one spoke to or at him. No one looked up, it was as if he didn't exist.
He reached his desk, files were waiting for him. He looked around. None of his coworkers looked at him. Andrew sat, and for want of alternative, opened a file. He opened it, but wasn't able to read. By the time he came out of his pause, he saw people leaving. It was four thirty.
Andrew Barker rose from his chair, feeling cramped, walked to the elevator, down, to where he parked his car, and drove 'home' to an empty house.
Andrew Barker arrived at an empty house, sat in the same chair, looked at the same divorce petition, trying to recall, to imagine all these evil acts he had done, and could not.
He reflected on his last taste of normal; Monday morning.
He had left for work, bidding his wife and son good bye. There was nothing in their expression, in their words, which hinted that this abandonment was planned.