Appetite for Distraction – Another Day.

He wakes up to a monochrome world. A crispy marshmallow sliding and dying on broken hips world. A snow day and sled day and trapped day world. He checks on his car and finds that the wing mirrors have been smashed. He puts it down to the storm at first but then he wonders how the storm could have torn off one of the mirrors and then placed them neatly in the thick snow that rests on the bonnet of the car the hood of the car he cannot think of a storm that could do that and puts it down to a will o the wisp or a gremlin or an early morning gang of miscreant youths or a pissy neighbour who earlier in the year called the police to remove the car because it was unsightly but now cannot do that because the car is registered to the home and all they can do is wreak their bitterness by way of vandalism or maybe it was the storm. Then he drinks a coffee and he eats some toast and he uses uber for the first time and barrels down the road later on with a driver who is pleasant but wears too much aftershave which bites the back of his throat and doesn’t know where he is going even despite having GPS and despite having google maps but they arrive and everyone within their small temporary community is still alive. Then he feels sick and exhausted and lethargic and he watches the snow melt at the Winter Olympics and the marionettes broken and tumbling down the wet mountains for medals and he thinks again abuot his brutalized car and the wing mirrors hang sagging and sad and the aerial bent horizontal. Then he swerves to work on slushy roads interrogating the spaces between the few abadoned cars before arriving in a small icy lake which he wades through with his bag like an adventurer to slip and slide on the marble floor in the lobby of his workplace. Then he feels exhausted and thinks he has probably taken too many pain killers so he has a coffee and some cookies and cream flavoured milk and then he is taken to the wrong building and it is already the end of the day and he is not sure where the day went and then the driver apologizes but it’s okay because it means being in the warmth of a car for that much longer and then he is in the warm. Then Matt Lauer presents the Winter Olympics from the Fortress of Solitude but not in a Superman costume which would have made it perfect and then he falls into aching dreamless sleep.

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The Sleepcoat League

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

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