“You’re a classic case of Horney’s: the man who comforts himself not with what he achieves, but with what he dreams of achieving.”
― Luke Rhinehart, The Dice Man

A Dice Morning

“Alexa, please turn off the alarm.”

The harsh electric squealing fell to sudden silence.

“Thank you Alexa.”

Frank always thanked his electronic assistant while knowing full well how ridiculous it was. Frank lay as still as possible, relishing an unexpected almost comfortable position. His long night of tossing and turning, feeling hurt in his various spots of arthritis, inflamed shoulder, twisted ankle, and the other bits of injury left from decades of slow decomposition. This resulted, finally, in a position where the relative lack of pain washed over him like a warm flood of soft water.

After a few minutes Frank looked to his side. On a small nightstand was a pad of paper, a pair of white dice, and a shallow ceramic plate. He was in the habit, every evening, to make a numbered list, from two to twelve, of eleven things he might want to do the next day. In the center of the list, say, five, six, seven, eight… the most common rolled numbers, he would list ordinary tasks or amusements- a trip to the library or grocery store, for example. But at the ends he would put more more adventuresome and difficult items, and by the number two and the number twelve (the least likely numbers) he would always list things that shook him to his core.

Today’s list:

2 write and send email, quitting my job (which I hate anyway)
3 post a nasty, threatening, anonymous comment on work electronic bulletin board
4 go out and buy new television at Wal-Mart (they are on sale)
5 go for a long walk
6 vacuum living room
7 make coffee and breakfast
8 buy 25 bucks worth of tools at Harbor Freight (get free gift)
9 Start watching Netflix series about the Parkway Serial Killer
10 Pick one Item off my Amazon Wish List and buy it
11 Buy everything on my Amazon Wish List
12 drive to Springfield and murder my boss

With a grimace and a light quick groan, Frank moved out of his painless cold lethargy, forced his legs over the edge and winced his feet onto the cold floor, feeling the thick dry calluses on his soles against the tile. He reached out, cupped the dice, shook them in his closed fist, and rolled them into the plate.