The Day Off: 4am


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The Day Off

4am: The smell of burnt toast awakens me. Is Matt drunk-cooking again? Is that a fan I hear down there, still faintly going? Will it be nasty-cold in the kitchen? I make a move to check. First, warm pants. Yesterday’s double black stretchies will do, underwear still in, just as I had shucked them last night at 8:30. I’m standing up and teeter on new feet. Look for shirt, already chilled all over. My bed will go cold before I get back. Something shows up and I put it on. Looking for my slippers. Probably under laundry piles. If I turn on a light I’ll truly wake up. I see striped socks in the dim Continue reading