• Jake Corbin

Last Week’s Memoir #1


Art by Paul Rios


Editor’s Note: The Last Week’s Memoir series is a collaborative story written by Jake Corbin, Bryce McEfee and Paul Rios. View previous LWM Serial No.1 entries to read the story from the beginning.

Andy Fiscus could see his breath hover in the air like a puff of smoke as he rolled over to the empty side of his bed to get closer to his alarm clock. Half awake, but coherent enough to know three snooze button hits was too many, he smacked the “off” button and slithered out of bed with his comforter wrapped around his body like a heavy-duty winter burka. It was freezing in his apartment—literally. Andy’s heating unit went out last week, but the landlord’s “guy” hasn’t been able to stop by and fix it. Apparently, it’s too much of an “antique” for any repair guy out of the phone book to handle. Regardless, Andy’s once awesome bachelor pad was approaching temperatures on par with “homeless cold.”


Shuffling slowly over to the coffee machine, Andy yawned and rubbed his eyes before hitting a few buttons and sending his automatic coffee maker whirring into action. This is how he starts most every day: staring deeply into his chrome-plated caffeine provider, waiting for it to brew just enough stimulation to help him through his day at the mattress store. Despite a short stint interning for the news desk at the public radio station (“KFTC—If it’s important to you, it’s news to us”), Andy is now the stockroom manager at Mattress Discounters. A title like Stockroom Manager may sound decent, but, in reality, it amounts to nothing more than mattress bitch. Andy is reminded of this every day.


After gulping down the last third of his coffee, Andy braved the stinging cold of his apartment, showered and got dressed for work. He opened a few drawers in his bedroom looking for his wallet, keys and Burt’s Bees lip balm before remembering he left them on the side table in the living room. In a subconscious effort to delay leaving for work, or maybe just the nagging feeling that things hadn’t turned out like he planned, Andy gave his apartment one last walkthrough to make sure everything was in order. Once satisfied, he walked out of the front door and locked the deadbolt and door handle lock.


Andy climbed inside his Toyota Prius and hit the ignition button. As power surged through the car, so did the old Swingin’ Utters jam from the stereo. The loud thrash gave his system a jolt. He put on his seat belt, looked over his shoulder and pulled into the street to start his 15-minute commute to the mattress warehouse.


“Maybe today will be different.”

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