a window that could be opened nor any other adequate source of ventilation.
As a consequence, the only time, generally speaking, it was used was when Ch.ase would grudgingly make his appearance in it after awakening in the morning and again before retiring to bed at night. Since Ch.ase understandably harbored a deep disdain toward this room and the facilities contained within it anyhow, and because he reasoned that it was therefore rarely ever put to real use, the level of care he voluntarily devoted to it during his sojourn in this homestead corresponded roughly to that which he accorded to the Neolithic crud encrusted on the gas stove in the adjoining room.
It was no exaggeration to note that Ch.ase actually loathed everything about the master bathroom. And this was true despite the fact that he was actually light-years away from being of anything that even remotely approached aesthetic inclination. Nonetheless, what little appreciation for practical things he did possess led him to accept that his objective evaluation of the building’s architectural failings could not leave him entirely indifferent on this particular count. Ever since the waning of the 20th century, there existed in far too many corners of the developed worldmonde.Planet some tacitly acknowledged widespread stubborn persistence in designing and building flats and houses, if one could even call them such, with flat leaky roofs, squeaky floors, small garages and essentially airtight bathrooms and toilets.
Architects were a complete mystery to him. Perhaps they either lived entirely different biological lives than he did or maybe they were chronically constipated, Ch.ase surmised. For him, there was no other feasible explanation. How could anyone deliberately build master bathrooms like his? He was always, without exception, disgusted by the pervasive stench that would linger in his flat whenever he was foolhardy or desperate enough to have to take a dump at home.
In fact, it was because of this dire shortcoming, resulting from a conflict of interest in the biological-architectural realm, that he would more than just occasionally find himself spending more of his already scarce time at the office voluntarily–just to avoid this dilemma.
As already mentioned, between the two rooms, opposite the entrance to the master bathroom, was the main entrance door that opened into the building’s stairwell. Ch.ase’s flat was located on the upper floor of this rather unobtrusive building, directly below the attic. Although the place beneath his was also rented out, he only very rarely ever met his neighbor, a baldish fellow who looked a bit like a potato or a turtle. He knew next to nothing about him other than the fact that he was employed in the construction business and that he apparently indulged very heavily in garlic and even more often in classical music–particularly Bach’s Brandenburg Concerts and Händel’s Water Musick, for which he apparently hedged an especially deep affinity, judging by the liberal amount of play he accorded it.
Ch.ase shuddered for a moment at the thought of water. He absolutely hated the stuff if it was anywhere other than in a glass for drinking purposes. Ever since Fulton’s death, he hated and, deep within, even feared it.
And Ch.ase sometimes wondered about another thing peculiar to his neighbor downstairs: the crashing of items such as glass or dishes could be heard coming fairly regularly from the apartment below. Although it did, of course, seem a bit odd to him, he had grown accustomed to this small idiosyncrasy with the passage of time. Perhaps the fellow had no dishwasher, Ch.ase reasoned, or, if that wasn’t the explanation, then maybe he was just plain clumsy.
In any case, the extent of their few contacts seldom went beyond the largely unchivalrous gesture of placing each other’s heaps of junk mail at their respective door stoop in the event that the otherwise disused letter boxes were once again overflowing due to the incessant stream of advertising flyers, most of which simply urged him to buy cheap and buy now.
Thus, the otherwise largely redundant mailboxes of Libertyville@Esperantia were not really any different than those of their counterparts in other so-called developed societies around the globe–or, for that matter, Ch.ase’s tabletop. Despite the nearly universal disdain for it, unsolicited junk advertising literally flooded every household in Libertyville@Esperantia–and probably every other one on the worldmonde.Planet, hidden away in lots of the other places of whose existence he knew little or nothing.
Located in the stairwell on the landing one floor higher, positioned directly above Ch.ase’ flat, was the entrance door to the attic. The rental agreement he had signed what might well have been a gazillion years ago expressly stipulated that both parties were entitled equally to its utilization. To his recollection, though, neither of them had ever made any real pretense of doing so. It was therefore a logical consequence that the door affording access to the attic had remained securely padlocked with a very substantial lock for as long as Ch.ase had been living here and, judging by its industrial age appearance, very likely even long before this. The lock was an old but formidable model, looking as though it was primarily suitable for use on steamships, fossil-fuel powered oversized harvesting machinery or for securely locking cages–containing frenzied hordes of angry gorillas, rabid pit bull terriers or other similarly dispositioned beasts–with one quick twist of a key.
As for a key, Ch.ase was clueless as to whether one still existed and if so, who might be in possession of it. But since he had never had any real interest in using the attic anyway, it never occurred to him to invest the effort to find out.
And, besides, it was entirely possible that, deep within, he had now, in the meantime, perhaps grown apprehensive of being questioned by someone, by anyone, over why he would suddenly want to open the door after so many long years of disuse.
Or disinterest.
In any event, Ch.ase considered it extremely unlikely that anyone was going to take him terribly seriously if he were ever to voice his suspicion that the attic over his apartment was full of birds.
Ch.ase was sure that he knew the system.status pretty well.
“I’m no fool,” he muttered to himself as he headed for the toilet, fumbling with his fly and thinking fleetingly about the birds again.
Eating, crapping and minding the food chain. Maybe the birds weren’t quite as stupid as he initially thought.
WE BE ONE NOW
Almost overnight, it seemed the entire worldmonde.Planet had virtually reorganized itself and, as one might expect in the aftermath of any such helter-skelter situation, it had resulted in an incredibly enormous amount of confusion and, at least from the perspective of those hapless souls less than enthralled by this new development, yet another sorry state of affairs to be lamented as loudly as possible.
What had actually happened was, on the face of it, quite simple. Major portions of the civilized worldmonde.Planet as everyone had known it had, for any one of any number of reasons, elected to transform their respective societies by fast-forwarding at something approaching breakneck pace for fear of finding themselves shut out of the many blessings of modernity if they continued to drag their feet while so many others welcomed the liberating spirit of progress without reservation. The cumulative result of such an endeavor was bound to initially be what resembled a huge incomprehensible mess to a significant number of the worldmonde.Planet’s somewhat less enlightened–or privileged–citizens. Seen after the fact, this whirlwind culmination of the globalization.bliss process had asserted itself in the manifestation of a relatively sudden cultural and economic revolution that was not entirely unlike the big bang theory regularly purveyed by legions of ostensibly educated heretics to describe the origins of the universe. The Clash of Civilizations and Crash of Currencies phase of history appeared to have finally sputtered to a halt and had in the meantime given way to largely rhetorical skirmishes staged to obscure an uncomfortable truth: that not many people were willing to admit or even consider the logical tendency of economies of scale to quickly run out of steam when they elect to tailor them to fit the needs of rapidly shrinking entities.
As a result of this minor oversight, and within the span of just a few short years, immense numbers of people found themselves plunged into unbelievably deep crises of identity and otherwise. Almost everything that people had managed to take for granted in the former, and very conventional, political order of the traditional worldmonde.Planet was, with one fell swoop, suddenly murky and awash or no longer valid at all.