Carl jolted awake with a start. It was raining again. It seemed to rain every day, every day at the same time even. He chalked it up to the curse of the routine. In Carl’s mind, the curse of the routine was something that at first he resented but now has come to live with. Everyday was the same. Carl would see the same people pass him by. The same music would play. The same smells, the same sounds. His neighbors would come and go, seemingly picked off and back into the world at random. But the curse of the routine spun on and he was always left the same.

One day, just when everything was going the same, something went different. Carl felt a strange presence. He couldn’t place it. He was at home like every other day. Carl looked at the groceries sitting next to him, just some fruit. Same things as always. For whatever reason that fateful day, something clicked and Carl left.