Coming out of my slumber, turning over, and seeing that dreaded alarm clock reminded me to wake up. The noise of it rattled me as if I never heard it before. I felt some kinship with the device, as its screech mimicked my feelings about that very moment.
Ugh.
As my feet touched the cold, wood floor, I looked towards the blinds. They were closed. Didn’t matter, in my drowsiness I stared at it anyway, looking for something, anything, that resembled hope.
Nothing came from it.
Predictable.
And from that feeling of hopeless, the day began.
What day? Didn’t matter. It was the same as the last. Most likely, the next day would resemble it as well.
I felt trapped. Fully human, but my path determined for me, much like a rail-gun arcade game at the movie theater. Well, here goes two quarters, in the form of coffee made in my bathrobe before my conscious brain even recognized the day.
In fact, I don’t think I would have noticed it unless the hot coffee didn’t slightly burn my tongue. Ugh, impetuous with nowhere to go, why am I like that anyway.
Indeed, nowhere to go but out into a cold world that didn’t care for me, anyway.
From the desk of Adam Thomas 