Memory Gone Wrong
He really needed to get out of his apartment and that was what he was doing. What he was going to do actually as he stepped out into the bright, nigh misty view of the street in a red sweater accompanied by a black jean pants.
It was obvious he still couldn't go to the office just yet. But if he couldn't do that, he at least still needed to stretch his body and most essentially escape from that boring apartment of his. He wondered why his mom insisted on him staying indoors until he fully recuperates. Such nagging Helen. Well, he sure wasn't heeding to her instruction today.
Before eventually leaving, he — out of a sense of security — decided to check his automobile. Seeing there was no ish with it, or better still anything strange, he left.
Ten past ten. That was the time on the screen of the phone he was holding. The street of Broadway was less crowdy due to it being the time of the day when most would be at work... talking about those on the morning shift.