10/22/2005 09:58:00 AM - This Morning

Today I woke up to the faint smell of cheese. I thought, remembering my tasty snack from the previous night. I reached for the bowl in which hid the chips. Extracting one with the fluidity of a barely awake hand, I ate it nonchalantly. It was drier than the Sahara but not entirely horrible. My vision was quite blurry but my senses well sharpened. I heard a silhouette of a sound... perhaps the confused jabberings of morning televisions. I closed my eyes, rubbed them, and my vision soon became crystal clear. I reached again for the plastic bowl, this time with a stiff arm and eyes wide open. On it shone the bright reflection of my wrong digital alarm clock. The erroneous time shone, inverted; 13:13. In the digital numbers, and inverted, it clearly spelled a name, so close to my heart, and yet far away. It was her name. I shook with fright. I rubbed my eyes once more, in disbelief, and when I had looked again the time had went on and left me without her. It display the inverse of 13:14. I shuddered, saddened at the thought of her. I reached for more chips. I didn't look at the bowl. I felt around the accursed alarm clock, crawling into the bowl, and extracting my stale reward. I looked out of the imprisoning window- holding the darkness in- I could see today would be chilly- one of those days in which the shady spots seem frozen and the sunny spots of ground briefly remind you of long-gone Summer and her heat. A cloudy sky but no sign of dreadful rain. That dull, peaceful gray of clouds- surely it won't rain. I kept on thinking of things other than her. Distraction hides frustration, I presume. But I couldn't occupy myself enough without thinking of her. Especially when "It's all over now, Baby Blue" is playing in my head. Bob Dylan on a lonesome weekend morning. Truly, what a perfect cure it is.

Adonis