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the most foreign to me – my cheeks hollowed out like those of a corpse, and my eyes sunk deep into the flesh. Fuck, I looked at least fifteen years older than I should’ve, and so much frailer than I imagined myself. I forced myself to look away, and cupped my hand under the faucet so I could rinse out my mouth. The water had a rusty, sour taste, and it didn’t help at all. I splashed some of it on my face which didn’t make me feel any cleaner. Since that was the only working light in the apartment, when I left the bathroom I kept the door open and the light on so I’d have some light in the room. I brought my papers back to the bathroom and squinted hard at each one until I found the form that had my work address, then grabbed my jacket and left the apartment.
    It had gotten colder since I’d been out earlier. I found myself shivering as I made my way up several side streets to Moody Street. Once I reached Moody Street, I passed a coffee shop with a clock out front. It was twenty to eight; at least I’d woken up early enough that I’d be able to get to my job on time. I stopped in the coffee shop, bought a few jelly-filled doughnuts and a large coffee, and got directions for the street where I was going to be working. The young Hispanic girl working behind the cash register had a bright, infectious smile, and told me it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes to get there. She was being too polite and cheerful to have recognized me, but I still dropped thirty cents change into her tip jar.
    While I walked, I ate my doughnuts and drank my coffee, and no more than ten minutes later, as the girl had promised me, I approached a small three-story brick office building where I was supposed to report to work.
    Inside I could see a lone security guard sitting at a desk. I walked up to the glass door and knocked on it. He looked up and gave me an empty stare before pushing himself to his feet and walking slowly to the door so he could get a better look at me. He was no older than thirty. A big awkward-looking kid with a buzz cut and a large round face that made his small dark eyes appear even smaller. He knew who I was. I could tell from how much trouble he was having making eye contact with me. Still, he pretended he didn’t and asked through the intercom who I was and why I was there. I told him and he opened the door for me, mumbling that I should take a seat while he called for the building manager.
    I sat in one of the two chairs in the lobby while he got on the phone. Less than a minute later a man about my height but much thicker in the trunk came out of the elevator to meet me. He was in his fifties, hard-looking, with ash-gray hair and a face that showed he had spent time in the ring when he was younger. He carried a clipboard in his left hand, and didn’t bother introducing himself or offering his free hand. Instead he told me I was late, that I was supposed to be there at seven-thirty.
    “I was told eight.”
    He stared at the clipboard before glancing back at me for as much as two seconds, his eyes darting back to his clipboard. “First day you’re supposed to be here at seven-thirty,” he said, repeating himself. “According to this, you know how to clean bathrooms, empty trash cans, and use a vacuum cleaner. That true?”
    In my old days I would’ve answered him differently than I did, but those days were done with and whoever I was back then had been replaced by an old man. I told him it was true.
    “Here’s the deal,” he said, his eyes fixed on his clipboard, almost as if he were afraid of catching another glimpse of me. “First three months you’re on probation. You miss work, you’re late or don’t do a good enough job, you’ll be fired, no notice, no nothing. Understand?”
    “Yeah.”
    He nodded, more to himself than to me. “I got paperwork for you to fill out. Afterwards I’ll show you where the supplies are kept and what you need to do. Okay?”
    “Sure.” I hesitated for a moment,