The polite man

A door creaked and a man went in. He lived alone in a one-room apartment located in the building’s basement. The clock in the hallway announced that tomorrow had already begun. The man took his coat off and hung it next to another coat that was slightly damp. He’d been staying at this very apartment for a few years was used to such things happening.

Rent was cheap. The polite man was grateful.

A chandelier was burning out in the living room. It filled the room with a dim light, creating an atmosphere of a medieval prison. The apartment had only one window that was too small to allow the daylight to enter the room, but for the polite man, it was enough. He lived alone. He didn’t want to have pets, even though he really liked them. There were no plants either.

Usually, when coming home after midnight, the man rarely cleaned the apartment. This day, he decided it was time to put things in order and clean a bit. He didn’t use home appliances for fear he’d wake the neighbors.

He couldn’t leave his job sooner as there were too much important and urgent cases to deal with. He spent every weekend with his family. He was helping them with important and urgent tasks, which they had too. The family needed the help of the polite man.

The polite man got tired. He sat down on the bed. Making things right always took a lot of time and effort. His apartment was pure and clean now, and the clock showed three in the morning.

Sitting at the desk, he began to write personal letters. They were addressed to a few friends and family members. The polite man didn’t want to cause any trouble. When he finished the letters, it was almost six in the morning. The sun was shining brightly.

He changed his clothes. Pajamas were more comfortable than the office clothes he wore every day. He took a pill, covered himself with a blanket and politely fell asleep.