A piercing sound stabs through Andy’s head ripping him from his glorious rest. “Jesus Christ!” Andy sits up and grips his throbbing head. “Where the fuck is the alarm clock?” He looks  beside his bed to see the culprit of his torture. He slides off the bed and walks with a pained squint to shut off the incessant chirping.

Andy drops down onto the floor and lets the cold wood soothe his soul and his headache. After five minutes, he clambers up and makes his way into the bathroom. “Huh, yeah it’s a nice bathroom.” He reminds himself to thank Becky later and turns on the shower. Once the room starts to steam up, he drops his underwear and steps inside. He slides the glass door shut, rests his head against the tile, and lets the water slide down his back. The heat pounds his shoulders and relaxes his muscles. Eventually, the fatigue gets to him and he lowers himself to the floor and closes his eyes.

He finds a way to wash his hair and condition while barely even opening his eyes. He finally gets up and washes his body before getting out and drying off. He walks over to the sink and opens the mirror to find all the supplies he could need in the medicine cabinet. He shaves, brushes his teeth, and combs his hair.

Andy heads to the closet and sees a whole new wardrobe. Dress shirts, ties, coats, anything he could need for work. Becky was good at her job. He threw on a suit for the first time in years and heads back into the bathroom one last time to check and make sure he looked alright in the mirror.

As he turns around to leave, he stops himself in the doorway and takes two steps back. He sighs and looks back at the floor by the shower to see a singular, blue tile...