It ruined his entire morning.

Alex liked waking up sometimes. After all, he was a morning person, and felt a smug sense of superiority at being separate from the morning zombies that trudged past him at the bus stop. Sometimes that song from the 90s, he thought it was called “Zombie” by a band named “The Cranberries”, would force its way into his head and he could not stop the echoed chorus, simply repeated, “Zombie, zombie, zombie, zombie.”

This morning, however, his eyes were crimson, bloodshot, demonically red. So red they practically glowed. Taking a shower was normally one of his favorite things, a strict morning routine, part of the "Triple S" he learned from his best friend's grandpa years ago: Shit, Shave, and Shower.

He loved the sound the faucet made when he turned it on, that rumbling deep within the walls, and finally the miniature typhoon of water that flowed, swirling around on the smooth, porcelain surface of the bath tub. Initially, the water was cold. Most people he knew didn't like freezing showers, and mostly he made an effort to avoid taking one himself. When he pulled the knob that started the shower, sometimes he would stand under the cold water as it fell upon his back, piercing-cold, straight to his spine. He would stand under it just for a second and feel the shocking chill. It felt all the better when the water steadily phased from cold to warm, to hot, right on the threshold of too hot.

This entire process was quickly put out of mind when he felt a slight burning sensation in his eyes that quickly rose to an agonizing hellfire that simply would not go away, no matter how much water he attempted to rinse his face off with, or how hard he rubbed his eyes with the towel. He never was a fan of showering in the dark, and attempting to wash his body blindly now ruined his entire morning.

The rest of his morning routine passed in a blur of painful squinting, including getting dressed and eating two cherry poptarts with a glass of milk to wash the gluey bread-like substance down his throat.

By the time Alex stepped out the door, they weren’t hurting quite as much, but he still had trouble opening them in the face of the wind that now dragged course sandpaper over his eyes. He had a hard time seeing the rest of the day turning out good, though he couldn’t help but reveal a short, staccato smile when something about seeing the world through rose-colored glasses came to mind.