Fractured Routine

“Ah! Hey, James.” Elias almost bumped into a slightly hurried colleague, who also seemed to be heading for the elevator.

“Hey, Elias. How’s it going?”

“Eh… let’s say fine. You?”

“I’m good too,” James replied with a grin. “—By the way, any updates on that project we got from Stratus Design Group? It’s been, what, six months now? I can’t remember us sending them anything solid…”

Just then, the elevator going up opened. James stepped in quickly, turned to Elias with a knowing smile, and, as the doors began to close, called out, “Check on it!”

A few moments later, Elias’s elevator arrived.
During the short ride down, he tried to push his mind toward the peculiar description of this new project… but instead, images of his kids’ drawings flooded his head — especially those from little Tom lately. Beautiful, imaginative sketches they proudly brought to him… but he had been so busy. He’d brushed them off with a cold “Nice,” or worse, slammed his office door shut and barked at them to leave him alone.

The guilt was heavy. If he could, he would have cried. But stress and routine had stripped even that from him. Maybe because he was a man? No… it wasn’t that.

And yet, they brought him such lovely creations — little trees, hills, pretty houses (which, as an architect, should’ve made him proud), towers, and, now and then, a city… with… a sunlit plaza? Ringed with white, curved spires?

The elevator doors opened with a jolt, pulling him out of thought. He stepped into the main lobby, where the reception desk sat. Peachy wasn’t there. He approached.

His phone rang — it was her.

“Hey, where are you?”

“I had a little accident…”

“Are you okay?!” Elias wasn’t sure how to react — he tried to keep his voice calm, but the tone had already shifted.

“I’m fine… just twisted my ankle.”

“Ah…” Elias let out a sigh of relief. “Is it bad?”

“Not too much. I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t want to distract you — I know how stressed you’ve been. But then I saw your messages, so… I called.”

“I had just come to reception to find you,” he said, heading back toward the elevator.

“Could you pick up Tom today?”

“Of course.”

“Good. And if you can, grab some vegetables. I’ll send you a list.”

“Alright,” he said, with the faintest trace of reluctance, hanging up as he stepped back into the elevator. He already had so much on his mind that even grocery shopping — especially with a list — felt like just another drain on his “precious” grey matter.

The rest of the afternoon passed smoothly. After finishing what needed to be done at the office (which, under normal circumstances, still meant taking more work home), he left.

Picking Tom up from school was quick — barely 5–10 minutes by car, depending on traffic. On the way to the grocery store, Tom pulled something from his backpack.
“Look what I drew today in art class!”

Elias gave it a sideways glance in the mirror but couldn’t see it well. “What is it?”

“Uh… I’d say a city!”

“A-ha!” Elias tried to sound interested, but his focus stayed on the road.

“Yeah… it’s kind of strange, I guess. Looks a little like your designs.”

“My designs are strange?”

“Eh… not always! But some are,” Tom hesitated. “And this one kinda looks like them. I think you’ll like the white spires I put around the pla—”

Elias slammed the brakes; he hadn’t noticed a stop sign he was about to run.

“Sorry — you okay?” he asked quickly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tom replied. His drawing had fallen somewhere in the car.

“I want to see it, really… please, remember to show me at home.”
They pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot.

Shopping together was, for Elias, like a nice little walk — a break from routine, and in good company. When they were done, they headed home.

Dinner was pleasant. They all ate together, and afterward, while the kids played, drew, and bickered as usual, Elias did the dishes alone since Peachy was still sore from her ankle.

“How’s my hero doing?” she teased, hugging him from behind.

“Me? A hero? Ha… just doing my duty,” he laughed.

“Alright then… Oh! Tomorrow… please, don’t forget to take Tom to school early tomorrow before work.”

“Of course.” He turned to look at his kids. Though his gaze was distant and his smile thin — tomorrow’s tasks still gnawing at him — he still felt a quiet joy seeing happiness painted across their faces. Through them, at least, he felt a little lighter.

Not long after, he wished them goodnight first and went to bed — another night with restless legs.

The hours flew. Before he knew it, he was back in morning traffic, on his way to work.

His phone rang.
“Hello?” he answered via the car speakers.

“Good morning. I know it’s early, but the deadline’s later today, and I’m not sure we’re 100% ready. I’m still waiting for your—”

“We’ll talk in person, I’m almost there,” Elias cut in sharply. Stress made him press the gas harder, weaving between cars.

“Are they ready?”

He sighed. “Yes…” making quick but not reckless maneuvers to save time.

“Great! How long until you’re here?”

He glanced at his GPS — ETA 22 minutes.
“About 15,” he said.

And at that exact moment, a truck slammed into the driver’s side of his car at full speed.