Another Day.


He wakes up and he is late very late so late that he misses everything. Then he goes back to sleep and then on reawakening has a coffee with some peppermint creamer and a turkey sub roll with mayonnaise and mustard and pepper that he made himself then he has a shower and he wonders how is beard can grow so quickly. The train is delayed because one of the carriages is broken so he sits and he reads his book until it arrives. Then at work he directs something in Welsh and everything sounds like poetry. His soul is full of poetry but his life is not. He goes down to CVS and he smells the stink of sewage and this is not a metaphor about capitalism and chain stores but there really is a smell of sewage in the CVS but no one seems to be bothered by it. The amazing power of the human nostril to get used to a foul odour very quickly. Then he realises that it’s not the nostril but the olfactory glands and not really the glands but the sensitive electrical interplay between input of molecules into those glands and the manner in which the brain interprets them. Then he drinks some cookies and creme milk shake and eats some chocolate. After that he goes to a pool bar and has a drink with friends. He talked with friends but couldn’t stay for long and only had one drink and then waited for the train and then got on the train and then got off the train and walked up the escalator and then ran for the bus that he could see in the distance and then had a burger and then had some wine and then put on his pyjamas and then and then and then. His life was unravelling.

Published by

The Sleepcoat League

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

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