There are countless socially inept people in the world, however few could claim that they made more friends sleepwalking than they did in the real world—but Bobby could.

It was eight o'clock on Monday when he got a sudden spell. As always (something he imagined but never saw himself for obvious reasons) he got out of bed—still asleep—and decided that the room wasn't a good place to sleep, thus starting his sleepwalking journey for somewhere that was. And, of course, that led to the same place it always did: the hallway of the old country retirement complex where he lived. Bobby wasn’t retired, but he knew a guy who could do some magic with paperwork that let you get really cheap housing.

The friend he encountered today was Old Mrs Dapperson, who quickly realised he was sleepwalking. The old lady sighed to herself “Always on mondays” then she held his shoulders and firmly guided him back to his door.

Bobby half missed the door and hit his head against the frame, awkwardly waking up standing. He looked around disoriented and saw the old lady who was helping him.

“Again?” He asked, his face flushing.

“Yuuuup” The old lady nodded.

“Sorry, it’s been getting worse,” he apologised sheepishly.

“Have you tried tying yourself to your bed?” The woman asked before winking and cackling.

Bobby closed the door and stumbled back to his en suite to sit on the toilet and do his morning business. Staring at the cracked plaster wall he put his face in his hands and laughed self-deprecatingly. The sleepwalking had gotten so much worse recently, ever since his dog had died.

Unbidden, a mental image of Gizmo, the goodest boy in the world leapt into his head. He had been the perfect companion for so many years, always there for him, waking him up before he sleepwalked too far and sitting just inside the door waiting for him all day while he was at work.

Bobby finished on the toilet, and threw on his suit. He knew it was unhealthy to throw himself into work the way he had done so in the past month, but it was the only thing which could take his mind off the current depression. Then he went to the kitchen and looked through the partition wall that divided it from the living room.

As expected Keith was hogging the couch and still snoring. Bobby wasn’t feeling patient today so he made a show of bashing the pans in the kitchen loudly as he began cooking breakfast.

“Can I ‘ave an egg?” Keith yelled.

“You think you have the right to ask things of me?” Bobby said back.

No response

“You need to be out within the week.”

“Hah, you always say that, but you never mean it.”

Bobby felt his anger rise up. “I’m tired of you taking advantage of me, you’re leaving before I go to work.”

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Keith entered the kitchen, he was a skinny caucasian with a pointy nose and large bushy brows that didn’t match his face. “Or what, you gonna pretend to call the cops again? This is a retirement home, they’ll kick you out too.”

Bobby glared at him. “I don’t care, it might be time to upsize.”

He took out his phone and put in the three numbers, then put it on speaker. Keith’s eyes widened.

*Police, what’s your emergency?*

Keith grabbed the phone and breathlessly said “It’s a prank, no issues,” before hanging up. “Okay, okay man, alright.”

Bobby crossed his arms and glared at him. “You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Keith had gone to school with Bobby and they had made friends because they had picked all the same modules—Programming, Greater Maths, Psychology and Ideal Employee Behaviour—They both had been good students, even assisting each other in the topics they were less good at.

But after school Bobby had joined one of the Great Corporations like he was meant to and flourished, whereas Keith had floundered in a startup which had been quickly bankrupted. He had so many arguments with Keith about how the man should use his one year employment guarantee that all graduates got to join the Great Corps, but Keith had ignored him, and that was the last he’d seen of the man for fifteen years.

Then Keith had appeared on the side of the road one day, a drug addled husk that he barely recognised, he had taken the man in out of the kindness of his heart to help him fix his life and (when it was something they could laugh about) say ‘I told you so’.

Then… then that disgusting druggy had ruined Bobby’s life that horrible morning when he had spilled coke on the floor. Gizmo, the good boy that he was, had tried to clean up the mess and ended up dying from an overdose.

He watched Kieth throw on a tracksuit and haphazardly stuff all his belongings into a lumpy worn duffel bag. Then he firmly grabbed the man's arm and led him to the door. The worthless piece of human garbage looked at him with an expression he would have once found pitiful, but now just found disgusting.

“GO!”

Bobby slammed the door and went back to the kitchen and tried to enjoy his overcooked fried egg. It was too rubbery and the yolk was solid, but he forced the food into himself. Then he went round the apartment closing all the windows so Keith couldn’t get back in and made sure to double lock his door.

His car, a little red hatchback let out an annoying beep as he unlocked it with the key, then he clambered in and revved it. The engine sounded pathetic but it got him to work every weekday and saturday so he had no complaints.

It didn’t take long for his office to appear in sight. It was a giant white cube that towered above the forest, windowless and artificial. Bobby worked for Cubecorp, it was one of the new world megacorporations. As a retirement plan they offered a year long luxury holiday followed by being cryogenically frozen and woken up in a new future. Bobby had planned to be frozen with his dog before he reached old age, but Keith had put an end to that.

Now he just wanted to work his days away and not think of where his life had gone wrong. He hadn’t managed to find love, but maybe being woken up in the future would give him a chance to try again.

He pulled into the parking lot, which they must have torn down at least a football field worth of trees to build and found a slot near the entrance of the building to park his car. Everyone did this so half the car park was always empty.

Then Bobby walked into the maw of the cube, joining the stream of other workers who didn’t live on site and followed the purple painted line through the winding corridors to the elevators used to access all the floors that dealt with programming. The cube was as tall as it was wide so there were a lot of floors.

He felt himself slip into rhythm as he rode up the elevator, the cube had a way of sucking you in, making you feel like a small, but important cog in a big complex machine.

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