Chapter 04

"One of the more interesting ways of characterizing someone is through their habits," said Jack, as he pulled a pipe from his jacket.

While bringing the pipe up to his lips, Jack looked intently out the window at the white crescent in the sky.

"Habits, too, are an interesting tool for us as well," commented Jack, as he fished around in his jacket.

Reaching into his left pocket, Jack pulled out a bottle of mesquite-scented bubbles.

"For they speak to both addictions as well as who we choose to become," said Jack, as he blew small transparent wood-colored bubbles into the air.

As the bottle of bubbles grew smaller, a line of brown, soapy circles led from his feet to the window.

"However, because they are a standard trope, sometimes the value in a habit is in its absence," said Jack, as he sat down. "People without habits usually do."

...

Beschdel "Leroy" Jenkins washed her hands in the deep sink; the hard water hit her hands.

Holding her hands under the water until they turned slightly red, Leroy began scrubbing the nails.

"Left, right, left," said Leroy, as the dark earth under each nail left begrudgingly.

Releasing her breath as she finished each pair of fingers, Leroy finished washing her hands and hung up her hand towel.

As she left the bathroom, she turned the light, sat down in her favorite recliner.

The news reporter rattled on about some sort of conflict near Egypt; at the first commercial break, dull thudding drew her attention to the kitchen.

"I wonder what's gotten into her," she thought, as she pulled the foot-stool lever and stood up.

Taking a sip of water, Leroy walked into the kitchen and closed her eyes.

The light, repetitive thumping began again, this time louder; she walked through the kitchen toward the sound.

Walking past the stairwell to the second floor, her washer and dryer stood quiet; as she stopped in front of the machines, the thudding stopped.

Leroy stood with arms crossed, and looked into the clear dryer door window; an ostensibly dry load sat awaiting recovery.

"Honestly, I'd forget my head if it wasn't attached," said Leroy, as she popped open the dryer door, placed the load atop the counter, and began folder.

When the dryer door slammed shut, Leroy heard banging again - this time louder and coming from the end of the small annex in which the laundry machines sat.

Leroy finished folding the shirt, added it to the stack, and dragged her hand along the stark, white wall.

As she approached the small door in the wall, the door lightly cycled between open and closed, popping quickly open between beats.

"Martha, I already told you, you're next," shouted Leroy, as she checked the locks on the door. "Besides, nobody will hear you down here, three stories down."

...

"Although this is a darker example than the others," said Jack, as he threw the pipe out the window.

The loud squeak of an awakened dormouse answered in response.

"The complexity of habits is simply tied to the fact they are more complicated," said Jack, as he walked about the cottage.

Mesquite-scented splatters lay along carpet about his chair.

"They are, at the same time, both a meta-narrative of physical activity and the declaration of a subjective autonomous tendency," said Jack.

Jack noticed small bit marks on the pipe as it sailed back into the cottage through the window.

"The key, in writing as in life, is to mindfully choose the habits that will bear the best fruit."

The dormouse appeared at the bottom of the window and jumped onto the floor.

"And to make sure we update our habits when we learn they ought to change," said Jack, as he dodged the dormouse.