Reflecting

He opened his eyes to be greeted by shards of sunlight effortlessly radiating into the room. The golden rays faced no challenge breaking through the curtains. The room was still; not a sound.

Glancing around, he was not sure what time it was. Spring had sprung and daylight hours were creeping earlier into each morning. As he reached for his phone on the sturdy bed-side cabinet, Owen was confident of one thing: it was Friday.

The screen of the mobile phone burst into life, initially blinding him, before he could make out that it was 9:44am. Later than he thought, but he was not troubled. His faithful companion, Morris the dog, was still curled up at the foot of the bed.

Over the last few years, Owen had worked hard to ensure Friday was always a free day. There were never any work deadlines, or tedious online video meetings to attend to. Friday was now officially part of his three-day weekend.

Resisting the temptation to doom-scroll on his mobile, he threw back the navy-blue covers of the bed and absorbed the ambient temperature in the bedroom. It was not unpleasant, but equally there was no glow of warmth lightly encasing his skin.

'What would it be like to wake-up next to someone?', he mused. It had been a long time since he shared his life, or a bed, with a woman. However, he knew it was safer this way. Having no one else in your life meant anonymity was almost assured. He had worked hard at this.

Owen dashed into the bathroom to begin the daily routine. He once again considered shaking up the monotony of the morning motions, but on the other hand it was a well-practised process: toilet; shave; teeth; shower. He could get it all done in around fifteen minutes; ten at a push if he was running late. Today, he was in no rush.

He threw on a pair of black cargo trousers, a white t-shirt, and an orange knit jumper. The ensemble was completed with maroon coloured socks, and casual black boat-shoes. He glanced in the mirror to ensure everything was where it should be! There was no hint of an earlier version of himself staring back. For a moment it shocked him - years ago he had simply vanished in the world, and arrived back like a caterpillar bursting out of a cocoon.

Morris was enthusiastically sitting outside the bathroom door as Owen emerged; tail wagging relentlessly as he knew a run around in the garden was imminent.

Owen walked along the hall of his rural cottage, passing the study he spent many an hour ensconced in. But not today! The stately grand-father clock counted the regular beat of time at the end of the hall. As he approached, it majestically commenced the chimes for ten-o'clock.

Owen stepped into the kitchen. It was glowing from the constant heat of the range cooker. He threw open the door to the outside world. Morris dashed out to begin one of his regular patrols of his domain. Owen filled the kettle with cold water, placed it on the stove top, and busied himself with the paraphernalia required for his morning cup of tea. Several minutes later he walked out the door into the back garden to assess the day.

The garden was expansive, divided into several sections. Each with a compliment of grass, various shrubs, and plants. The perimeter of the garden was awash with an early flush of bright yellow daffodils, eager to soak up the first rays of today's sunshine. He could see hints of primroses peeking through the soil as they sensed the coming of regular spring sunshine.

He sat on a dry bench as Morris bound towards him, ready to report the garden was safe from intruders now that he had sent the wild rabbits racing through the hedges.

As Owen sipped the warm tea, he reflected on his life. Much had happened in the last few years. However, he was well settled in his new home. He was almost invisible.

Granted, he lived in a small rural village, where there was no opportunity to be a nobody. Everyone was a someone! This particular someone had created a persona who had never existed until six years ago. No one knew any different. His plan was working perfectly.

He didn't miss being Mark -- this person was gone forever. At the time, he was not sure if this would work. Could he pull off such a scheme? Was it worth it? However, in his heart he knew he had done the right thing. He had made a moral decision, delivered an outstanding result, and accepted his life would change entirely - forever. No going back.

Owen's entry into the Witness Protection Programme had been a necessity. He was now part of a group of people who simply vanish from existence and emerge, as if reborn. Wiser with a slightly scarred soul.