Static and Riddles

Mark's hair had been thinning since he was thirty, but lately it seemed to be abandoning him in earnest. He'd find strands on his pillow, on his keyboard, caught in the drain of his shower—tiny, pathetic evidences of a body slowly eroding.

"You're running yourself into the ground," Elena said, watching him from his doorway. She'd been his friend since college, before the divorce, before the cable installation job that was slowly crushing his soul. "When's the last time you did something for yourself?"

Mark was on his knees, rerouting a tangled mess of cable behind his TV. The coaxial cable had snapped again, and the picture on screen had dissolved into static. "I don't have time for myself, El. I have mortgage payments. I have a daughter who needs braces."

"You have a sphinx in your bedroom," she countered.

He paused. The statue had been his ex-wife's—kitschy, she'd called it. A sphinx with painted-on eyes and a fake-enigma smile. After she left, it had stayed, gathering dust on his dresser. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Mark imagined it asking him riddles he couldn't answer.

"It's just a statue."

"Is it?" Elena moved closer, her perfume cutting through the stale smell of old electronics and desperation. "Mark, you're forty-five years old. You install cable for a living. You haven't been on a date in three years. What are you running toward? What are you running from?"

He stood up, his knees cracking. The cable finally connected, static resolving into crystal clarity—a reality show, a cooking competition, people screaming about onions and timing.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"Then figure it out," Elena said softly. "Before the riddles change." She touched his shoulder, then let her hand drop. "Before you lose more than just your hair."

Mark looked at the sphinx on his dresser. For the first time, it seemed to be smiling at him. Not mocking—just waiting. The static on his TV faded to perfect clarity, and somewhere in the distance, he could hear himself running toward something, instead of away.