The man who went to work

HE AWAKENED AND WAS PREPARED TO GO TO WORK, or such was supposed to be the case. Instead, he stood up and pulled a novel he had always wanted to read out of his bookshelf. With one great blow, the dust disappeared, and he sprawled on his red armchair, taking his time to adjust himself so that his back might feel just right.

With each page that was turned, he would reach out for the cup of tea that was perfectly within his reach. He would take a small sip and enjoy it before putting the cup back on the blue saucer plate.

The aftertaste of the tea was strong but pleasant, and he couldn’t wait to finish reading the page he was on so that he might take another sip and not be seen as greedy for doing so. Yet a saddened look appeared on his face despite the great comfort he was in, which made him stop reading.

He stood there and viewed his surroundings. First, there was his red velvet armchair, which he adored to sit in. Next were the ceramic-colored walls, which paired well with the dark bookshelf and the houseplant beside him. All of this brought him a great sense of joy, or at least it was supposed to have granted him this. The fact of the matter is that he simply couldn’t appreciate them because none of them were real.

They weren’t real. He never worked to obtain them. In his words, HE never did anything for ANYTHING. They were all granted to him. He was ordered to act, and almost as if it were a reward of sorts, his house grew and his living room became even more decorated. Nothing that was lost or gained was because of his will. Everything was already decided for him. No matter what he would have done, his fate would have been the same. He sighed like he did yesterday and opened the book again.

This is one of the few pleasures that he has, and as such, he was going to enjoy what little there was. Slowly and without much effort, he allowed himself to be taken inside the world of heroes and villains, and at once the illusion took hold of him.

The tale was about a man. He wasn’t given a name, but instead was granted an impossible task. He was tasked with conquering the world. However, much like the reader, he didn’t live in a setting where conflict would resolve every problem. Furthermore, it was never elaborated on what this "world" is, so the goal was unclear.

There were no kings, knights, dragons, or princesses to rescue. People interacted with one another and provided goods and services for a living. The man would live around a schedule. He would wake up, go to work, return home, and go back to sleep. With each passing chapter, his story would end with a high or a low. Rinse and repeat without an end in sight. Yet he moved forward towards his task while also enjoying the faintest beauty within his sight.

It is throughout this journey that the man will meet other characters. There were average cases, such as Joe Adams, whose favorite color was blue and who would repeat the same questions and phrases over and over again. Then there were the peculiar ones, such as Rose Florencio, who was the part-timer at the local small-town bakery the man liked to go to and who always had something interesting to say.

There was a dynamic chemistry between the two. They almost seemed unable to not know what to say to one another. The man reading the novel thought that they were like two peas in a pod and even contemplated Florencio being this "world" the man wished to grasp. His heart would beat with anticipation as they grew closer together, and it would be left broken when what they had never worked out.

Still, the man went on his path, but he would never forget about those who had left an impact on him. Soon, in the last chapters of the novel, the protagonist would start boxing. This part of the novel was structurally similar to the ones before.

The man, being unaware of the context he is placed in, starts everything from the bottom and works his way towards the top. However, it is in this part that the protagonist is at his sincerest. He was still the goodhearted man with the ambition to conquer the world from the beginning, but with each experience, his maturity became evident. Before, he would exclaim his intent; now he would laugh out loud and state it as if it were a fact.

He followed the teachings of his gym mates and his trainer, Old Man Louis. His training was rigorous and grueling. Every pant and drop of sweat was described explicitly, and soon, his training paid off. He dominated the amateur ring and quickly joined the ranks of professionals. Eventually, with each hard-fought victory, it was just the champion and him. Everything seemed like a dream come true.

It certainly did feel like one. The man thought to himself as he waited in the locker room. Old Man Louis was giving him a lecture, but he wasn’t listening. Well, he couldn’t even if he wanted to because the sound of his heart beating was too distracting. He looked at the clock. Five more minutes. His heart started racing even faster. A minute passed, and he was already breaking a sweat. Another one goes away. Now he rises and starts shadow boxing. It was always like this. Ever since the start, before the match even began, he’d be in a frantic mood and would calm himself by doing this.

This time was different. His legs felt as though a thousand ants were upon them. His right hand was aching with pain. His jaw was struck so many times that it felt as though it would break at any moment. These have been some of the hindrances he has had to deal with in the last few matches, but revealing them would mean retirement. On the other hand, his opponent, Alexander Diaz, another great man, never lost a single bout. This man had no weaknesses and was able to learn from and make use of his enemies’ flaws.

The outcome of this match was evident. The man was going to lose. The last minute finally ends, and the man is called into the ring. With each step taken, his heart seemed to want to break out of his body. As the loud crowd’s cheering came upon him, a weird sense of relief cooled his back, and he bowed at them.

Upon raising his head, he fixed his eyes on his goal. Despite their physiques being similar, the champion seemed to be of mountainous size. The ring was larger than any other the man had been in, but it was constraining with Alexander inside it. Old man Louis was telling him something, but Alexander’s gaze was much louder than anything else in the world. It was then that the bell rang and the first round began.

The two stood there. Five seconds go by, then ten, and then twenty. Not a single movement. They inspected one another. Both were as still as statues. The first one to move that round was Alexander, but the man was faster and jabbed twice before the champion could do anything. Alexander blocked them and took one step back, only to dash in with a jab of his own. Even when the man blocked it, the jab was still a punch, and his arm started aching. The man gritted his teeth and took a defensive pose. The champion saw this and followed the man, not wanting to give him a moment to rest, pestering him occasionally with punches. After this, it was clear to everyone in the stadium how wide the gap was between the two fighters.

This torment continued for another eleven rounds. By then, the man was left with one good eye and an arm that was in decent shape. This could not be said for the rest of his body. At any moment now, he knew he would crumble. He could not feel his left hand. His legs were heavier than they ever were. The man could not even tighten his jaw. His body begged him to give up, and he almost did when he heard Rose call out to him. His gym mates and even old man Louis, who had always been silent, shouted for him to keep pushing.

Yeah, this is it. The champion would always go in a bit too far when he launched his devastating right and would leave his side a bit open. He would take the hit and counter with one of his own. Then perhaps he’d understand a bit of what the world is like. Thank you all, he thought. And as the right came in, the story ended.

It was evident. The man did not make it. He was defeated and was going to be remembered as one of boxing’s greatest tragedies. Yet, the lack of an ending gave way to a more hopeful but unlikely outcome. The man put the book down and finally remembered he had to breathe. He sat there for a brief moment silently, not knowing what to think, only to finally decide to get up and put the book back in its place.

It seems like no one can escape it. Every one, everything, and being would someday come face to face with an end. He didn’t like the outcome, but he realized after finishing the book that there was more to life than the fear of meaninglessness and predestination. He was going to try and find his own goal, his own Rose, and his own joy in life. Until then, he would get up and finally go to work.