One can Always Count on Dave

6:34 am

RING!!!

Dave's well aged brass windup alarm clock clanged the same monotonous one note tune as it had every morning for the last four months. The metal ball, set upon its spring loaded lever, jumped between two brass bells so fast, it appeared only as a blur. Most people likened the sound of an alarm clock to nails on a chalk board but for Dave Shaw it was like a siren's call, announcing the beginning of the new day. Dave stopped the ringing and set about his daily routine. He walked from his bed to the bathroom, shambling sleepily, counting his steps.

One, two, three, four... ten.

Ten steps

He brushed his teeth, keeping track of the number of strokes so each tooth received the same amount of cleaning.

One, two, three, four... fifty.

Fifty strokes on the left.

One, two, three, four... fifty.

Fifty strokes on the right.

And so it went until his mouth felt clean and his pearly whites were pearly and white. Dave went into the kitchen to make coffee as he did every morning. He carefully measured the water he poured in the percolator.

One, two, three, four.

Four cups of water

He did the same with spoonfuls of coffee.

One, two, three.

Three spoonfuls of coffee.

He opened the valve on the propane tank of the camping stove, struck a match and called forth the dancing blue flame of the burner.

With the coffee going, Dave did his exercises.

One, two, three, four... fifty.

Fifty sit ups.

One, two, three, four... fifty.

Fifty push ups.

One, two, three, four... fifty.

Fifty leg lifts.

Dave poured himself a cup of steaming black coffee and went to the picture window in the front of his second story apartment to see what the world had brought to him that day, again, counting his steps.

One, two, three, four... twelve.

Twelve steps.

He parted the curtains gently.

Moses parting he Red Sea.

He counted.

One, two, three, four... twenty three.

Twenty three walking dead.

Dave gazed over the outside world.

He sipped his coffee.