Entry 2 - Hidden

The alarm clock sounded before Jacob gave it permission. Actually, he did set it, but that was a day and a life before. Almost like it was another version of him, thinking he would want to get up. Or maybe it was the first versions way of sticking it to version two, as if to stress some displeasure with the expiration of version one and the illumination of version 2. Regardless, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, stretched, squinted, yarned, coughed, rubbed his eyes again and rose to his feet. He lived in a small 3rd floor-attic-apartment above a home too large for the one old lady that lived there. She couldn't go up the stairs so she never even went to the second level. Why she didn't rent that out Jacob never could quite figure out. There was a large triangular-shaped-cieling-to-floor window right next to his bed. Actually it wasn't right next to it. He did have room in between his bed and the window to walk by, or stand and stare at the images the window allow in from the outside. Immediately his mind went to the thing. So he hurried to clean up, get dressed--the whole routine--so he could store the thing deep in the hidden pocket inside his jacket. Even if you looked inside the jacket, close at the lining, you wouldn't at first glance notice the pocket. Come to think of it, you probably wouldn't notice it on a second or third glance, unless you knew it was there in the first place. And that's why he kept the thing there. He knew it wouldn't fall out and he knew that even if he accidently--which would never happen--left his jacket on the seat of the bus and someone found it and picked it up they wouldn't probably see it. Even if he never saw the jacket returned he would be more devistated for someone to find the thing. So he hid it in his pocket, never to take it out again, though it was his prized possession. When the day was done, he would return to his 3rd floor attic-apartment remove the thing from his hidden jacket pocket and place it in the safe place, the thing's assignment during the dark hours. Jacob loved the thing. He adored it actually. Which, of course made it odd that he kept it so hidden, so secluded from the light of day, from the others in his life. But that in and of itself was a trick, I suppose. It was the thing itself that kept Jacob from the others. It was the thing that kept Jacob from the very light of day. Much like putting the darkest sunglasses on your face, thereby experiencing a sun that is less potent than the one experiencing the full gamout of the UV ray, this was Jacob's entire life. The thing he kept hidden, also kept him hidden. So hidden that it remains to the curiosity whether or not he even knew it was hidden in the first place. Much like his reality was near, but nothing at all like the reality of the others around him. So not so near after all. But seemingly near all the while.