[ WP ] On a walk through the park , on an average day , the sun flickers and goes out .

( I think I may have interpreted the sun flickering and going out a bit differently than you did. Oh well. ) 
 
 Aiden Tyler was a man of routine. 
 
 The day always started the same way: a finely brewed cup of coffee. Fair trade, half a teaspoonful of sugar, with a splash of milk. He always bought fair trade coffee, but every morning he looked at his sugar guiltily as he poured it. Was sugar fair trade? He had never seen sugar branded fair trade. Was his brand farmed ethically? Every morning, he promised himself, he would look up the answer after work. 
 
 And every morning he did n't. 
 
 He would drink it while sitting in his favorite chair at 6:40 am, looking out the window onto his small balcony. Every morning, regardless of the time of year, there was a fantastic sight to see -- sometimes a sunrise, sometimes the morning sun shone on him, and sometimes it enveloped him. On his knee he would open one of his many books that adorned his bedroom wall, and he would flip through it, trying to find something new, something he had n't read. Poetry, always. Other genres had no place in his morning routine. He would allow himself one poem to start off the day, reading it silently to himself, out loud, and silently once more. 
 
 A customer service rep by day and a fan of spoken word poetry by night, Aiden had learned that a strict schedule was the best way for him to ensure he could work in his 8-5 job and still have time for his passions. So by the time he was off to work in the morning, he already had something to contribute to the coffee house, or the recital, or the poetry club meeting. 
 
 His commute every morning took twenty minutes by train. He did n't like his commute. The train station was a depressing place, all blank canvases and gray cement. No foliage, no sunlight, no water, nothing. The only thing you could really look at and appreciate was the graffiti scrawled in various places, ranging from works of art to depictions of lewd sex acts and profanity. Those twenty minutes were spent with headphones in, and another coffee in a travel mug. Just black this time -- he was trying to watch his weight. He was n't in college anymore, and he had noticed his stomach pooched a little bit. 
 
 Before he knows it, he is at work again. Same old time card, same old chair, same old desk, same old script. `` Good morning/afternoon/evening! This is Aiden from Telewark Financial! How can I help you today?'' His job was remarkably like talking to people, but every hint of communication had been sucked out of it. Every potential question they had lead to a memorized sentence -- he had long since grown out of his cheat sheet. After a while he had given up on the potential of a customer asking something new. He had heard and seen it all. 
 
 It was like he was guiding his customers through the worst Choose Your Own Adventure series he could imagine, and he knew all of the potential results. 
 
 At ten a.m, Aiden made a habit of going to the water cooler and refilling the water bottle that sits on his desk. Typically, he would n't linger and talk to his co-workers lingering around the water cooler. He had plenty of friends, he told himself, but he liked to keep work and friends separate. By five after ten he was back in his desk, taking calls and talking. 
 
 That morning was different, though. 
 
 A supervisor was talking to somebody that Aiden did n't recognize -- a new hire? Somebody from a new department? Both were women, and definitely not Aiden's type, he could tell right away. Maybe it was the inflection of their voices, maybe it was their word choice, maybe it was how little he cared for the topic of they were speaking about, maybe it was how they inconsiderately blocked off the water cooler after they had finished filling up their water bottles. 
 
 Aiden crossed his arms, hoping they would get the picture. But they were lost in their own world. Had they even noticed him? 
 
 The supervisor, a red-haired woman with curly hair and an affinity for beaded jewelry was raving about something. Her blonde companion occasionally tried to get in a word edgewise, but the redhead was n't having it. She had something she thought was important to say, and she seemed determined to say it. Every sentence she punctuated with a wave of her hand. Aiden would n't have paid any mind to her conversation normally, but that day was n't just like any other. 
 
 `` -- you'd love them, Gluten-free, vegan and fair trade. They're a bit pricey ( I mean, you pay for the quality! ) but they are so worth it! I make sure every ingredient is fair trade, down to the sugar. And, you know they're healthy for you, they're gluten-free *and* vegan. One hundred percent guilt free.'' 
 
 Aiden cocked his head. `` Sugar is n't free trade?'' 
 
 The women turned their heads, notably surprised. They awkwardly shuffled out of the way of the water cooler. 
 
 The speaker shook her head. `` Not all of it.'' 
 
 `` I've just never seen fair trade sugar in the store,'' Aiden explained lamely. The frown on the faces of his co-workers reminded him why he did n't want to talk to his co-workers. He could feel the interaction slipping out of his fingers as it progressed. 
 
 `` Well I go to a little mom-and-pop store on the corner of York and Young, it's a little out of the way but it's so worth it. They have a huge selection -- they're a refugee family too, from... Cambodia maybe? I do n't remember. But you can get some hard to find stuff and know you're supporting the poor!'' As she spoke, she turned to her friend again. Aiden sighed. The conversation no longer included him, and they were back to just talking between themselves. He had had his piece. 
 
 He stepped up to the water cooler, and filled up his waterbottle. 
 
 When he finally got back to his desk and had another call on his line the clock read 10:09. Normally a supervisor would be on top of somebody taking that long in a water break -- but Aiden was pretty sure his supervisor would n't care. Not that they were particularly good friends or close in any way, but Aiden had worked in the same position for five years. He had gone three years without having his supervisor speak negatively to him. 
 
 Mostly, he did n't think the supervisor noticed him. He was n't a problem employee, and he was n't going to be moved through the ranks. He was just here. 
 
 He picked up his phone. `` Good morning! This is Aiden from Telewark Financial! How can I help you today?'' he said. And he did n't stop saying it until his lunch break. 
 
 His lunch break was at 12:30-ish. Company policy dictated Aiden finish whatever call he was on until his break started, and routine dictated he lean back for a moment, take a drink of water and relax. By 12:40 he was out of the door. 
 
 His walks in the park were the highlight of his day. Especially on warm, bright summer days. What food Aiden ate depended on the day of the week, frequenting one food vendor for every day of the week. He liked the variety, and the ability to just walk around the park and enjoy the sights. Much better than being cooped up. Aiden always said that his co-workers would benefit greatly from a walk outdoors -- some fresh air and sunshine did you good. 
 
 Monday was gourmet pretzel day. And of course, as every customer service employee does, he took coffee with it. A little sugar and a little cream. He deserved a treat for making it halfway through his work day. The pretzel was passed to him in a wax paper bag, and he grabbed it not a little greedily. 
 
 He sat on the nearest park bench. The park was fairly empty today, but that might have been to do with it being an unusually windy day. A bit chilly for May, too. That suited him just fine, though. More of the park for him to enjoy himself. Besides, the day was cloudless. A beautiful skyline today. 
 
 Besides, who worried about a bit of a chill when you had a warm coffee to keep yourself company? He had already taken the first sip of coffee when he remembered the conversation in his office, when he remembered that sugar was not free-trade. 
 
 `` Oh.'' 
 
 He looked at the cup in his hands. 
 
 He did n't know why it bothered him so much. He was pretty sure the pretzel vendor did n't even sell fair-trade coffee, he had n't expected his morning coffee to be ethically made. But something about the idea of sugar not being free-trade stilled him. Every cup of coffee he had poured himself every morning, every free-trade coffee he had ever had, and he had never accounted for the sugar. 
 
 So he did the only rational thing: he abandoned his coffee and his pretzel sitting on the bench and he walked away. 
 
 Okay, maybe it was n't exactly a rational thing to do, but something deep inside told Aiden he had to leave. *Now*. He had to get away from that coffee, had to get away from that sugar, and whatever his coffee's loss of fair trade status meant. 
 
 But a quick look over his shoulder revealed the winding trail behind him, littered with trees, adorned with pebbles and gravel. The coffee was still back there, still on that bench. Aiden stifled an urge to run. 
 

