Another Day.

He wakes up. He sent emails last night that he regrets but then tries to forget as he rides in the car and rides off the wine and rides off the memories of embarrassment and missed opportunities. Then he logs onto an email address that he never logs onto and his heart skips a beat because he has a reply from the girl who he loves and he opens the message but then his heart is confused because it is a link to a page about working from home and he thinks to himself this is most odd and then he replies and tells the girl that he loves that her account has been hacked. Then later as he sits on the train his heart sinks very deep because he thinks he knows what has happened. After receiving the email last night she deleted her account and the moment that happened bots went in and took over the name and used it for their nefarious purposes so he was emailed by a bot. So he is even unhappier and looking at pictures of her doesn’t make it any better and when he gets to work he has failed to do a fundamental part of his job and he is reprimanded and he feels bad about his incompetence. Then he eats chocolate and then the day drags on for hours and he finds himself frozen with indecision and cannot do anything at all. Wrecked by the poor choices that he has made he finally gets to do some work that makes him feel worthwhile and he draws some more art and posts the art and hopes for validation with likes and rebloggings which he gets. Then in the taxi on the way home he texts the girls who’s email was hacked but really deleted and pretends to offer advice just so that he can contact her but it makes him feel better and then when he gets home he goes to sleep.

Published by

The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

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