text: Walter shaved. Then he walked to his room and vacuumed the floor for a while, until it was time to leave for the doctor’s appointment. He stepped into the sunny streets, feeling that he’d been there before. He didn’t look at the people passing by and kept his head low as he walked down the street. There was a green bottle top on the ground, a curled up rubber band and a purple glue on nail. They reminded him that he had been there before. Walter was nervous about the appointment. Afraid it was going to be too intense for him. He hadn’t been outside in a while. ‘Never heard of that,’ the doctor said. ‘Well, you see, this keeps happening to me. I encounter a situation, and when it’s over, or while I’m still in it, I get this strange feeling that this exact situation has already happened before. In the exact same way,’ Walter said. ‘And I have that feeling all the time, doctor.’ ‘All the time, you say? So right now as well?’ the doctor asked. ‘Yes.’ The doctor leaned back. He gazed at the ceiling fan for a while. ‘Well, I can assure you, this is the first time we’re having this conversation.’ ‘I believe you. But it feels as if I had been here before, and the longer we sit here and the longer we talk, the more I feel that way. It’s very unpleasant. And I don’t know how to escape it.’ The doctor grabbed a pen from the table and tapped it against his finger. ‘You see that?! The way you took the pen and play with it. It’s like that was bound to happen.’ The doctor put down the pen.‘What exactly is so troubling about your condition?’ ‘Don’t you understand? Whenever I get into such a situation, it’s as if I am put there, out of nowhere. This feeling, it’s as if it’s reminding me, that no matter what I do, it has happened before in the exact same way. And look. If it is true and it has already happened, then it’s like going in circles. That’s really what it feels like. Going in circles, without progress. It’s driving me insane.’ The doctor had a puzzled look on his face. Walter was getting twitchier and twitchier. The situation had become very intense now and he felt like leaving. He shoved around in his chair, while the doctor waited and smartly gazed around the office some more. ‘Well,’ he said finally, ‘I’ll prescribe diazepam for your condition. Take it once a day and you should be fine in a week or two.’ Walter left the office then. He should have known the doctor wasn’t gonna be able to do any good. He walked down the steps, deliberately deciding where to step. He skipped one step, then no step, then three, then one and then none for the rest of the rest of the staircase. But it didn’t change his feeling and no matter where he put his foot, with every step, he felt he was following a predefined path. As if he had walked down these steps just a week ago and was put here again now. So when he reached the second to last step, Walter suddenly stopped and jumped over the two steps, trying to surprise himself. He landed. Then he dashed left, clapped his hands twice and whistled, deciding it all so quickly and spontaneously, hoping to trick himself and the feeling. But it didn’t work. It never worked. As if it had always been known that he was going to jump the last two steps in that particular moment. On his way home, he stopped trying to surprise it and just ignored the feeling. He didn’t wanna make a scene. The people were giving him enough strange looks already. He avoided them and kept his head low exposing himself to as little visual input as possible. In front of his door, he closed his left eye, so he wouldn’t see the bay next to the door. Unlocked the door and went in. Inside he closed both of his eyes, which sometimes made it easier. He was mad about the doctor’s appointment. It had been too intense, like a complete reset, showing him that all the times he had thought he had tricked the feeling successfully prior to the appointment, were useless and just part of another bigger frame. Like a checkpoint he returned back to. So there was his room, the black windows shut and the tiled floor with the black and white tiles empty and clean. Just as he had left it and just like it always was. The vacuum cleaner was still plugged in next to the door frame. He looked around and felt that he’d been in this moment before. He was still following the track of the doctor’s appointment. Going in circles like a scratched record. Walter closed his eyes again and left the room keeping them closed. He had to do something. Surprise himself with something sporadic and unexpected that came from within him. Something to throw him off the track. So he decided to go outside. It was night and dark and nobody was around. He walked down the street, passing the alleys. Maybe he could climb something. A car or phone booth or something. He walked a few blocks. Then he reached an intersection. And as he crossed the street, Walter spotted three cops walking up the street his way. He walked on but turned to see where they were headed. The street was empty. But then suddenly a man fell out of the nearest doorway. Smacked right to the ground, his body completely relaxed and his pants down to his ankles. He didn’t move. The three cops rushed right over to him. And Walter snapped. What a coincidence. Oh what a fucking coincidence. He felt like puking. He stomped his foot on the ground multiple times, then ran a few steps ahead, stopped abruptly, swirled around, clicking his tongue and dropped to the ground. Trying to get away from the moment as fast as he could. He rolled sideways along the pavement, beating his fists on the ground, then quickly popped back to his feet again, shaking his left arm through the air and spinning around, continuing his spastic dance. Then he tried to calm himself down. What a ridiculous coincidence. Had he crossed the alley two seconds later, he wouldn’t have seen the man fall. He threw up once. Then he wiped his mouth and began to walk back. ‘Excuse me, sir! Are you alright?’ Walter swirled around. One of the cops had come over. His face twitched as he reached for his flashlight. ‘Sir, are you alright?’ he held the flashlight into Walter’s face. ‘You were having a seizure.’ ‘I’m fine. It wasn’t a seizure. I have a condition, it’s alright. Please leave me alone. Unexpected events trip me out like hell, as you’ve just witnessed. And this is another unexpected event to me.’ ‘Are you intoxicated, sir?’‘No sir. Like I said, I have a condition. It’s psychological.’ ‘What kind of condition?’ ‘Well, I always have the feeling that everything that’s happening to me has happened before. Like Déjà vu.’ ‘Hm. Well, this hasn’t happened before,’ the wiseass cop said, totally missing the fucking point. ‘Yo Rick,’ one of the other cops called then, ‘quit talking to the alien, and lend us a fucking hand here!’ ‘Watch out, yeah!’ Rick said to Walter and lowered the flashlight. Of course it hasn’t happened before. That was the point. It didn’t matter what was happening. He felt this way no matter what happened. And if he had stepped into the alley two seconds later he would’ve seen the man with his smacked head lying on the ground, and it would have freaked him out just the same. Turned inside out Walter walked home. Back in his room he was exhausted. The tube lights were on and the vacuum cleaner was still plugged in. He started it and began to vacuum the room. He started in the right corner of the room and went up the tiles towards the black windows. Then he turned and went down the next row. Keeping his gaze on the tiles. He breathed calmly and tried to think of nothing. He cleaned the entire room. Then he pushed the vacuum cleaner to the right corner again and started over. In the morning he woke up, lying on his back. He folded the blanket back to a perfect rectangle next to him, swung his legs off the edge of the bed and walked to the bathroom. His left foot stepping on the white tiles, his right one on the black ones. He was already naked. He stepped in the shower. It was a floor level shower. There was no shower curtain, no mirror, and nothing that could move. His razor was lying in its spot next to the drain, where it always was, aligned with a tile. Walter sat down on the tiles. His back and ass feeling the cold stone. Then he picked up the razor and began to shave his legs. From the bottom up. Ankle to knee. He knew where to start and stop each line. The hairs weren’t long at all. Hardly visible, black dots. But he still shaved every inch of his legs. Then his crotch. One slice across the ass, then his upper body, then the lower and upper back. He was getting cold now, but didn’t mind. He shaved his arms and his already bald head. And at last his face. Chin and cheeks and his eyebrows. Not cutting himself once. He placed the razor back where it belonged, stood up straight against the wall, closed his eyes and turned on the water. Washing away the hair dust. The tube lights in his room were on. Walter turned on the vacuum cleaner and began vacuuming the tiles. He started in the right corner and went up alongside the wall towards the two black windows. He vacuumed the whole room like that. Up and down the rows of tiles. The windows where taped shut with black cardboard, so no light came through. Because otherwise the light would be different on a sunny or rainy day, or at night. That’s why he had taped them shut. The light always had to be the same. No surprises. He vacuumed, tile after tile, like he always did. He finished, went to the starting square and started over. Keeping his stare on the next tile, trying to get it right. It didn’t make the feeling go away. But this way at least it made sense, because he really had been there before, in the exact same moment. Thousands and thousands of times. After another round Walter got hungry. He turned off the vacuum cleaner, left it plugged in and went to the kitchen cupboard. With his eyes closed he reached in and got a can of baked beans. He got baked beans delivered to his room once a week. They were dropped off in the bay next to his door. Usually Tuesdays. But he never dared to get them before Thursday, as he feared they might not be there and that would be unexpected. He didn’t heat the beans. He ate them with his eyes closed and immediately washed the spoon and put it back in the drawer. Blind. He only had one spoon. Then he returned to vacuuming his room until he got hungry again or tired. The next morning he woke up, folded the blanket to the side and went in the shower. He shaved his entire body like he always did. Not cutting himself once. Then he went on to vacuuming his room. Sometimes he felt like he was going too fast or too slow. And sometimes a wheel of the vacuum cleaner got caught in a groove or the cord. But he just continued up and down the tiles. Trying to get it right. He knew this way, it was all going to be over soon.