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The days ran on and on for Tim, the hopelessness and dementia of every hour bore down on him. He could not remember the good or bad days without feeling lost in chaos. His memories were glass shards that could never be put together again. Desperation was his only constant companion.
Even on this day he sat on a torn cushion on the floor. His tattered jeans hung from his failing frame. His hair was mussed from the constant rubbing of his hands. He looked out his window down to the street and he saw her. He opened the window and thought he caught the faint scent of lilac waft through his window.
He dreamed about her, her smooth complexion, the slight sway of her hips. When he masturbated he thought of her skirt caught by a gentle breeze. He called her house ten times a day and hung up when she answered, he just wanted to hear her voice.
He sat in thought and heard a knock at his door, it was his landlord. �Yes sir here is the money.� He said pulling a wad of twenties from his pocket for the next months rent. Tim was never short of twenties. He walked into his studio. He painted her image over and over amidst the other paintings which he sold. His agent would always attempt to urge him to sell her image and he could not. He hoarded her. He imagined caressing her skin with every stroke of the brush. He dreamt that she loved him as he did her even though they had never spoken. He tried to include the sound of her heels hitting the sidewalk in the mood of his paintings. He would try to catch every glance, every mood she could possibly have. But he knew her not. She was a random star that he would never touch.
Even in his loneliness and his madness he could not understand why he loved her. Sometimes justifications would come but they always sounded na�ve. He opened all of the windows in his apartment and the smells of linseed and turpentine flooded out into the street. He could smell his body as well, he had not bathed for over a week.
He walked into his small bathroom, lit a candle and turned on the tap. The water gushed out. He opened a fresh bar of Zest and washed his whole body with it, including his hair. He shaved his face. He clipped his toenails and fingernails. He shaved his head. He shaved his eyebrows. He shaved his arms, his underarms, his legs and his crotch. The whole bathroom was covered in hair. He took the broom from the kitchen and carefully cleaned up every hair.
He looked at his reflection and laughed. �Well if nothing else I amuse my fucking self.� He said to the mirror.
He went to the living room and lit a stick of incense. While it burned he collapsed on the floor and watched the smoke rise from the tray.