Olaf opened his bleary eyes. He reached over to the alarm clock next to him and switched it off, then closed his eyes again. But he couldn't fall back into the realms of sleep, but once he was awake he was awake, forced to endure another day in the world.

He followed his same daily routine. He laid in bed for exactly an hour then rubbed his eyes and got out of his bed. He walked to the bathroom and stared in the mirror for exactly twenty-seven minutes. Then he brushed his teeth for exactly seven minutes. After that he shaved his face for exactly twenty-two minutes. Next he showered for exactly forty-nine minutes. Then he would go to his kitchen and drink exactly four pots of coffee. Every morning he did exactly the same thing.

After his coffee he looked out of his window ever so cautiously though he knew no one would be watching him. After he conformed the obvious fact he got into his car and started driving. He was so used to driving to this place that he now felt as if the car drove itself. He knew he could do it blindfolded. There he was on Research Drive, with the same black sedan in front of him and the same red Lexus behind him. Even the cars on the street that surrounded him were exactly the same. Finally the car reached its destination and he parked in exactly in the same spot. But Olaf remained in the car just as always. He looked seven windows up and four windows across.

And there she was, inside that room, doing exactly the same thing. Typing on the exact same computer, the exact same words, printing the exact same documents, on the exact same printer, and giving them to her exact same boss.

Not one sound soul noticed her damp cheeks, which had absorbed the tears he had created. The tears that he had drawn from those stunning eyes. Only he noticed their presence even though he could not see them.

The day progressed exactly the same as he felt her presence rather than watched her through the clear window. He had exactly the same lunch of cold, black coffee that mirrored his heart as he felt her labor through her lunch hour. Finally at exactly nine twenty seven she walked out of the office and into the gloomy night. This was the part of his day when his heart did a summersault, the part of the day he saw the radiant glow off her face, that gleamed even without the pale light of the moon which never seemed to be present.

She got into her car and closed the door putting her tinted window between his view and her features. She switched the gears of the rundown car and drove off with Olaf in cold pursuit.

He saw her backside as she walked up the steps to her house, which was much more than enough for him. He finally removed his rigid body from his worthless car for the first time all day and walked to exactly same window.

He kneeled down in exactly same dried pile of dog feces so he wouldn't see her. And there she stood, staring out of exactly the same window and his tears came out of her eyes, the tears he created. He listened to her quiet sobs, feeling his body curl over is disintegrated heart as if to protect the dust.

Finally the ear shattering sound that was worse than a machete scrapping against gravel seized, though she hadn't cried out even a fraction of her tears. She walked over to her bed and was asleep before her drenched eyes fully fluttered.

He climbed into the window and stealthily crept to her long bed. He knelt down and held his breath so he could hear hers. His face went from pink, to crimson, to violet, to sapphire. Finally he inhaled deeply but she didn't stir. He steadied his breath to match the slow shuddering pace of hers and stayed this way for exactly seven hours.

He crawled out of the window then got into the car that took him down exactly the same road back to what he was forced to call home.

He then got out of the car on exactly the same bridge and stepped to the edge, reminiscing the painful day when he made the decision to stay on his side. This was the day he wanted to relive, the broken record he wanted to fix. But he knew life hardly ever gave you second chances that you were hardly ever given the tools to fix a broken record. She offered him the chance to join their side, but he didn't take the chance, he listened to his mind instead of his heart and let his greed trounce his love. He closed his eyes and something different happened. He finally released the tears that had been burning in the back of his eyes since that fateful day, the tears he had held on to for oh so long. He felt the warm salt-water slide down his scarred, ivory flesh. He let the sobs escape his heart, flow through his throat, and sail out of his mouth. But even as he sobbed for the loss of his one true love, the loss of the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, he felt a great weight lifting from his heart. He had done it, he finally broke the broken record and now that he had done it he knew what he had to do. He looked up to the sky but he didn't see the baleful starless sky. He saw her face, her flowing black hair, her angular face, her minuscule frame and her dazzling tear-filled brown eyes. He surrendered his entire body to the image and let it encase him, flooding each of his frail senses and stealing over his withered soul. He leaned forward slightly and dropped through the deep black air and away from oblivion.