In Compliance to the Vulgar (pt. 1)

"They bury their dead with their heads directly downwards, because they hold an opinion that in eleven thousand moons they are all to rise again, in which period the earth (which they conceive to be flat) will turn upside down, and by this means they shall, at their resurrection, be found ready standing on their feet. The learned among them confess the absurdity of this doctrine, but the practice still continues, in compliance to the vulgar."
- Jonathan Swift, Gulliver's Travels

He slept well once the girl had opened the windows and the crisp air from the mountains made it over to the bed. The sheets on the bed were a pale yellow color and he considered them for a moment before he fell asleep. When he woke up the light in the room had changed and the yellow color of the sheets seemed brighter and less appealing. The shower had a window that was made out four glass cubes and he liked using it this time of day because the light showed through the steam and it all seemed very dramatic. He shaved quickly and missed a spot on his neck that he wouldn’t notice until much later. There were always dark spots under his eyes that he had inherited from his old man and he hardly ever noticed them anymore but the light in the bathroom seemed to accentuate them and he thought that he would do good to get more sleep. He came out of the bathroom and back in to the bedroom where the bed with the yellow sheets sat in the middle with two dark oak bedside tables on either side. The big window was still open and it looked out over the city and beyond to the big mountains. The air came through the window cold from the big peaks with snow on them way in the distance. He pulled on a black pair of pants and took from a hangar in the big closet a thick blue collared shirt that was clean but stained around the collar from sweat and age. He took an old blazer with brass buttons off of another hanger and pulled it over the blue shirt. Sitting on the bed to put his wool socks on he thought this was a hell of a business to be in. Better than the kids selling paintings and shoe shines out there maybe but weren’t they the ones that always ended up getting hurt? That’s no way to think. Pull it together and focus. You won’t get anywhere tonight with this kind of garbage floating around your head. The air up here was good for staying sharp but you’re really making it awful hard. He slipped the old Floorsheims on his feet and walked back in to the bathroom to comb his hair.