He went to work.
He came straight back home.
Gave up his daylight-dreams of improvement to the comforts of deranged sense & sleep, & told himself that he would never do it again. He would stop thinking about it.
She went to work.
She stayed out in the night.
Not wanting to return home to the stillness, the nothing, the oppressive sound of silence, she told herself that escape was found in oblivion. She would never return again.
On Saturday, they were no one.
On Sunday sunlight glided through the windows, dust motes floated through the air & the sound of birdsong rose above the city-noise.
It all became too much.
So, at different times, in different places, they both went outside.
They looked up to the sky & something that felt like peace perverted by corrupted innocence filtered out everything they took for granted.
They sensed beauty in the periphery.
They heard noises, smelled fumes & perfume, saw beasts & machines.
It all became too much, so
they both turned & went inside again