Exhausted from the late night, Corey fell into a deep slumber. He dreamed of the noise coming from his manager’s office. The dream was fragmented and disjointed. He was both being told to come into the office by the manager’s voice, and also being told by his subconscious that he was sneaking in and could get caught.
“You’re just pretending to hear the manager” a voice called.
Another voice reassured Corey “You can hear what others can’t.”
Despite the conflict and the fear of what was causing the strange rumbling in the Manager’s office, he opened the door and entered, as if on auto-pilot.
“Hello!” Corey called out.
There was no one in the Manager’s office. Various documents and other office items had spilled from the manager’s desk onto the floor. The desk chair had been knocked to the ground. It looked like something bad had happened in here. Certain darkness lingered in the air...
Out of a fear response he turned around, and as he had expected the manager appeared from behind the door. He approached from the darkness in an unnatural manner and pounced on top of Corey. He had the appearance of an insect, with big soulless eyes, bony sharp ridged arms, and mucous oozing from his body. Corey struggled. Fear began to grip him, but then memories of all the training he had been doing recently flooded his mind. Corey felt strong.
“Get off me Mr Randalson!” Corey shouted as he with great force pushed the monstrous Mr Randalson flying into a wall.
Corey got up and saw Sara trapped inside a cocoon in the corner of the room. She had worked here longer than Corey and shown him the ropes. Was she dead? Sara… Corey looked around but couldn’t see the monstrous Mr Randalson.
“Don’t forget your headphones!” a familiar voice called out.
Corey turned to see his Aunt May. She was standing in front of his house. Corey was now standing beside her. She had something for him.
…
“Korede! You better wake up or you’ll be late!” his dad called from outside his room.
Corey opened his eyes. The dream disappeared from his thoughts as he checked the time.
“7.45! I’ve slept in…” he grumbled.
There would be no time for his early morning jog. Corey reassured himself that he had made up for it last night… after all, rest days are important.
His dad entered his room, and opened the curtains. Corey momentarily shielded his eyes as he adjusted to the harshness of the cold morning rays. His father was already dressed for work, wearing a brown pinstripe suit, with a white shirt, and a blue tie.
“I’ve made you breakfast! It’s on the table downstairs. Now, will the boy give his old man a hug before he leaves for a long day of teaching” Kolade Evans said with a warm smile as he embraced his son.
“Don’t forget your glasses old man!” Corey shouted as his father left.
On the table downstairs was a fresh pot of coffee, and his dad’s self-proclaimed world famous tomato omelette. The dining room was very minimalistic, with just pictures of him and his father serving as decoration. They had no pictures of Corey’s mother. When they moved from Nigeria to Ireland Corey was only six years old. Corey’s mother disappeared shortly after that. Without any pictures Corey couldn’t remember his mother’s face, which pained him. She disappeared within a few months of arriving in Ireland, but Corey felt like she had been around for a year or two due to his many fond memories of her.
Corey wolfed down Kolade Evan’s world famous tomato omelette as he read through the latest copy of New Scientist. This issue featured an article on blockchain technology. Corey found the history fascinating. He pondered over the origins of Blockchain technology. Although research dated back to the early 1990’s it wasn’t until 2008 that someone using the name Satoshi Nakamoto publicly conceptualised the idea. No one knew who Satoshi Nakamoto was or what his reasons were behind creating the first blockchain. It was a mystery, and Corey loved mysteries.
After he finished his breakfast he hurried to get ready for university. As he was running back and forth up the stairs, the sight of a picture of his Aunt May reminded him of his strange dream last night. He couldn’t get the repulsive monstrous insect image of Mr Randalson out of his head, and he couldn’t stop wondering about what it was Aunt May wanted to give him in the dream. He hadn’t seen her in over ten years.
With many thoughts spinning through his head, he left the house and headed for the bus stop.
To be continued....
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