30 minute Post #2

He tugged the bottle from his lips, and peered down the opening. A single drop fell, before finding a place in his eye. He yelled out in pain and threw the bottle. It smashed against a wall, placing another stain on the already haggered walls of his studio apartment. He rushed from his couch and waded through his collection of trash before comming to the bathroom. The sound of rushing water filled the room, followed by haphazard splashing as he tried to rinse his eye. The cool water soon subsided his pain. He raised his head to face a man he didn't recognize anymore.

He rubbed his jaw and raked his fingers through his hair. He eyed his reflection, closely as if wondering how he had come to this, then his eyes caught sight of a fragmented square in the frame of the mirror. It was a picture. In it a young woman was immortalised with a beaming smile plastered on her face as she overlooked a coast of some sort. He raised a hand towards the picture, but brought it down on the light switch of the bathroom and walked out into the hall of his apartment.  

He entered his living room. It was bathed in dim light casting from the blinders of his windows. Like a child with a hint of curiosity , he stepped towards them, and looked outside for the first time that day. The scene before him was like an ad oan the cover of a holiday magazine. Children were playing as cars drove by. He even saw a man walking a dog and a woman who could have been his grandmother feeding pigeons.

That's life in the city i guess.

With his curiosity satiated, he turned from the blinds and sunk back in his usually spot. He started wondering how long it had been since he spoke to another person. His eyes fell to his coffee table. It was littered with letters, probably bills he thought. His brows arched as a particular letter caught his eye. It was crimson. He didn't have anything else to do, with the cable and internet deactivated, and with the lights soon to follow, he might as well catch up on some reading.

He  managed to dig it out of the pile stack on the table, and read the print on the front.

"To Mr.Anderson of  Apartment 145, 48899 central Lane." He inspected the crimson envelope. The hint of ink still lingered on it. "That's strange, there's no return address.." He trailed of and started digging it open. After opening the letter, the contents said:

"Hello, mr. Anderson. Today is the first day of the rest of your life."