He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

This is the loop.

His name is Daniel Mercer. He is thirty-one years old. He works at a desk in a building in a city. The desk has a computer on it. The computer has a screen. The screen has words on it. The words are about numbers and reports and meetings. He types the words. He sends the words. He reads the words. He does this every day.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He thinks about his father. His father was a man who lived in a house in a town in Ohio. His father had a job at a factory. His father came home every day and he sat in a chair and he drank beer and he watched television and he went to bed and he woke up and he went to the factory and he came home and he sat in a chair and he drank beer and he watched television and he went to bed.

He thinks about his mother. His mother was a woman who cooked food and cleaned the house and washed clothes and folded clothes and put clothes in drawers and took clothes out of drawers and wore clothes and washed clothes again.

He thinks about the loop. His father lived in a loop. His mother lived in a loop. He lives in a loop.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

There is a woman named Emma. He meets her at a coffee shop. The coffee shop is on the street between his building and his office building. He goes to the coffee shop every morning. He orders a black coffee. He stands in line. He waits. The line is always there. The line is always moving slowly. The line is always people who are going to work.

Emma works at the coffee shop. She is twenty-six years old. She has brown hair and green eyes and she smiles at him every morning when he orders his coffee.

"Same as usual?" she says.

"Same as usual," he says.

This happens every day. He orders coffee. She makes the coffee. She asks if it's the same as usual. He says yes. She hands him the coffee. He pays. He leaves.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He thinks about Emma. He thinks about her hair and her eyes and the way she smiles. He thinks about what she might be like if he knew her. He thinks about the loop. He thinks about the loop and her. He thinks about the loop and her and the coffee shop.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He talks to Emma. One day he talks to her. He says something that is not about the coffee. He says, "How are you?"

She looks at him. She has not expected that question. She says, "I'm fine. How are you?"

He says, "I'm fine."

This is the first time he has broken the loop. The loop continues anyway. The loop is big. The loop is bigger than one sentence.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He talks to Emma again. He says, "What do you do when you're not at work?"

She says, "I read. I walk. I watch TV. I sleep."

He says, "I sleep too."

She says, "That's what we all do."

He says, "I suppose so."

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He talks to Emma again. He says, "Do you ever feel like you're in a loop?"

She looks at him for a long time. She says, "Yes."

He says, "You do?"

She says, "Every day."

He says, "What do you do about it?"

She says, "Nothing."

He says, "Nothing?"

She says, "Nothing. What would you do?"

He says, "I don't know."

She says, "I don't know either."

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He talks to Emma again. He says, "What if we got coffee after work? Just us. Not at the shop. Somewhere else."

She says, "I don't know."

He says, "It would be different."

She says, "Different isn't always better."

He says, "I know."

She says, "Maybe."

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He goes to the coffee shop after work. He waits for Emma. She comes off her break. He is standing there. She looks at him. She says, "You're not supposed to be here."

He says, "I know."

She says, "Where are we going?"

He says, "I don't know."

She says, "You don't know?"

He says, "No."

They walk. They walk down the street. They walk past buildings and cars and people. They walk past the factory and the school and the park. They walk past the river and the bridge and the highway. They walk and they talk and they don't talk and they talk about nothing and they talk about everything and they talk about the loop and they talk about the loop and the loop.

They end up at a diner. The diner is on a street that he has never been on before. The diner has booths and a counter and a waitress who is named Barb and who asks them what they want.

He orders coffee. She orders coffee. They drink the coffee. They sit in the booth. They look at each other. They look at the diner. They look at the street. They look at the loop.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He thinks about the diner. He thinks about Emma. He thinks about Barb. He thinks about the coffee. He thinks about the loop. He thinks about the loop and the diner and Emma and Barb and the coffee.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He goes to the coffee shop. He orders coffee. Emma makes the coffee. She asks if it's the same as usual.

He says, "No."

She says, "No?"

He says, "Not the same as usual."

She says, "What do you want, then?"

He says, "I don't know."

She says, "You don't know?"

He says, "No."

She makes the coffee. She hands it to him. He pays. He leaves.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

He wakes up. The room is small. The walls are white. The ceiling is white. The floor is gray. The bed is in the corner. The window is in the wall. The window has no view. The window has a wall outside it, a brick wall, close enough to touch if you reach your arm out.

He gets up. He washes his face. He eats breakfast. He goes to work. He comes home. He eats dinner. He sits in the chair. He goes to bed.

The loop goes on.

[OTMES-v2-FM-V-06-F3B8C52D-A6E9F4C1-M5-T65-R6-14-1543]