Flash Fiction Story #2-Death By Boredome

In this small room sat a man with wild grey hair and green eyes that rarely blinked and almost always stared into the blank space. When he would shut his eyes he would squeeze both of them tightly for 2-3 seconds and then they would suddenly both open as if an electrical current had just passed through them. His metal desk faced a small dusted window about the size of his head, and we must note here that this man did not particularly have a very big head. The dust on this window had been accumulating for more than 17 years. Perhaps if the window could speak it would have provided us with an explanation of why it stopped being a window and looked more and more like a piece of the grey walls surrounding it.
This man who went by the name of Thelonious Nile had won the lottery at the age of 28. Knowing that his coworkers would laugh if he did not quit his job as a clerk right there and then, and thinking that he did not have much choice in the matter, he left his job the very next day. Not having any specific dreams or aspirations, a friend or a lover to care for, Thelonious took all of his prize money and bought an office that very same day in a high rise building in the middle of Manhattan.
The office seemed to come with everything but a purpose, so Thelonious decided that until he would come up with a plan he would have to preoccupy himself with something else. Being accustomed from his previous job to order copy paper, and blue ballpoint pens on a weekly basis he picked up the phone and ordered ten boxes of copy paper along with ten boxes of blue ball point pens. When the supplies arrived, he opened the very first box of copy paper and laid a stack of fifty clean, white, blank papers on his desk. He also took a pen out of one of the boxes and sat himself down and his glance ricocheted from the paper under his palms to the window facing his desk. He closed his eyes for 2-3 seconds and suddenly opened them both as if an electrical current had passed through them. He grasped the pen even tighter and decisively wrote down the number 1 and than the number 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and went on writing the numbers in ascending order till the fifty clean white and blank papers were no longer clean, white and blank. It was well past 5 o’clock when he had finished but he thought that since he was self employed, and he was the boss of this office as well as the owner of it, the long hours of work did not really bother him.
17 years later they found Thelonious Niles lifeless body in the chair in an office of a high rise building in Manhattan. The office just had boxes and boxes of papers with numbers written on them. In front of him was also a piece of paper with the number 315,619,200 followed by 315,619,201 315,619,202 with the last number written on that page being 315,619,238. His green eyes were wide open facing something that must have been a window at one time.