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Sticks of Doom - A beginning

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Joined: 10 Aug 2004
Posts: 6381
Location: Michigan
Sticks of Doom - A beginning  Reply with quote  

I awoke to find nothing had changed. The windows were still unbroken. My bed was slept in. My alarm clock still failed to wake me on time. Nothing was different. Nothing was still there.

I threw back the covers, bracing myself for the rush of cold air that inevitably followed because I had forgotten to set the thermostat properly, again. I could hear the thunder of another commute somewhere in the distance. The threat of a lengthy rest behind the wheel of my unimportant car with its unimportant upholstery, unimportant cup holders and unimportant radio tuned to the same old station playing the same old music, loomed. I sighed and rubbed my eyes, hoping that I might somehow rub out the world and replace it with something more pleasant.

It didn't work.

I coughed that cough that only smokers get after sitting up and disturbing the detritus that has settled in the lungs during the night. A bit of lung came up, which I promptly chewed and swallowed; my face contorting at the thought of what I was doing. I dragged myself to the shower to wash away the insufficient night's rest and replace it with a refreshing feeling of inadequate alertness. This was followed by thorough brush of the teeth and a look in the mirror to decide not to shave again before returning to my bedroom to get dressed.

"Something different today," I said, reaching for the same old work shirt, "something snazzy." It was white. Just white.

I whistled some tune I'd probably picked up from watching too much Extreme Makeover: Home Edition or Supernanny while I straightened my tie, tied my laces, and staightened my tie again. I felt at home in my routine. No, I felt trapped in my routine. I felt trapped and at home. I was confused. I grabbed the car keys, put a cigarette in my mouth and headed out to work.

2006 All rights reserved. Jeff Yates

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