Frank returned home from work at 5:43. He doesn't have his own car, he has to rely on mass transit. Fuckin' buses.
He finds an old friend in his brown recliner as he meticulously rolls a zig-zag and sprinkles it with green to take the edge off from the day's work.
It's only after grabbing his black phone on the wooden night stand next to him that he realizes he hasn't talked to anyone for several days. Frank turns his phone off, then on again just to make sure that technology hasn't gotten the better of him. He's always been speculative of things like this ever since he was a kid.
He's turning 30 soon. But that's no special occasion for the phone that gives Frank the same soft glow against his glasses as it has in years past. Nothing new is happening.
Frank wants an animal...anything for companionship. But he asks himself, "what can I take care of that won't die?"...and each time he can't find the answer. That's because in Frank's mind everything dies, no matter how pure or beautiful, or important it is...everything dies.
Frank has never bought into the whole "nurturing others" idea. He has to focus on taking care of himself first, and that's day-to-day at best.
Nothing is certain. It never has been. But Frank has to get the fuck out of this apartment. Things need to change. What have his old friends been up to and why aren't they calling?