Story from 130808

writing story

published 1970-01-01 00:00

updated 1970-01-01 00:00

%date 130808 00:00

It was a few seconds before the alarm went off that I awoke. It took me a few seconds to drag my arm out of bed to slowly, carefully and unwittingly drop my hand over the alarm. My lips managed to conjure an unhappy smile, and the next breath I took seemed to bring with it the air of mediocrity but the exhale left me feeling heavier. The mechanical force of movement would soon kick in, and my ritual would begin. Undress, bathe, clothe, consume, move. My cold fingers always seemed to be on the verge of dust, but now I could see the specks falling off. As I reached my 6 foot prison, I wondered if the Sun ever grew tired of the morning ritual.