I awoke, slumberous: for the night before has left me dreadful. 10:24, the gold-plated clock read. I wearily got up, gazing at what a mess my room had become. Was this even my room? I pushed on, in deceit for what this mansion had become, then found the main stairwell.

“Albert!” I hollered.

“Yes, sir?” My chief butler replied.

“Clean up this... mess,” I ordered half-awake. Before I knew it things were where they were supposed to be and I could call this place home. I soon got lost in my home. There are many digits in the price of this estate.

“God, this place is such a maze,” I commented. Either way, I went and sat down in the most comfortable chair money could buy. My body aches.

“Gilbert, read me the time,” I said hushed.

“11:02, sir, and you have that meeting at 3,” Gilbert said empathetically. Gilbert. The clock made of bone and flesh. The clock found on the side of the road, thrown away like layman’s litter. To go from that to riding in a limo, looking at this property and then being in it, having your taxes done for you—everything free, out of pocket. It’s all too much. The meeting. I have to go to this board and pitch an idea to my own company and hope they approve it. They always do, and I’m sure there’s some way to overturn a veto. They always do. Pondering precisely what to say, I walked to the overview, the big glass overview of this stupid people city. There’s no angels here, but we try to make them. There is so much media hat depicts this place as the city of Angels. My experience says otherwise: people are bad, annoying, rude, dumb, lazy, any combination of those for no reason.

The meeting, apologies. To prepare, I looked at a map and found my fridge room. I didn’t bother putting on my jacket, for my hair had to be a certain way and it would take time. I turned on the light and it didn't start to hum. The protein powder, that’s all I’m here for. I retrieved it and turned off the light. In the hallway to the kitchen a plaque read in Latin (to sound at least pseudo-intellectual): “For I could have all the money in the world but still feel like shit.” I considered smiling; laughing at the absurdity of it all. But, I pushed on. ■