That’s a terrible title that expresses how awful the last two weeks have been. Well, week and a half really. It’s fine though, today has been much better. Wrote a micro story just to remind myself I knew how to write. Here it is:
The clock blinked 12:06. The power went out sometime during the night and came on six minutes ago. Stan watched it blink until it flipped over to 12:07. Then he continued to watch it blink until 12:08. Finally, he leaned over and pulled the power plug so that the blinking would stop.
He looked out the window of his apartment and through the cheap curtain he saw it was still dark. He threw the covers back and sat on the bed, his head pounding. He was tired but knew sleep would be impossible for now. He walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Down on the street he saw nobody. Not even the prostitutes who normally hung out under the lone working streetlamp. It was early morning, Probably between four and five AM. Late enough for the night owls to have gone home, but not early enough for the early birds who got the city moving to have started their day.
Stan walked to the little table where he kept his booze and poured a finger of bourbon into a not completely clean glass. He drank some of the bourbon and wondered what he was doing with his life. In a few hours he would be dressed and making his way to a dead end office job where the day would pass and at the end he would have no idea what he had done to earn his paycheck.
He drank the rest of the bourbon from the glass and refreshed it. He would sleep off the worst of the drunk before going into work, but would probably still be comfortably numb. It was enough to get through the day and probably no one would notice. Even if they did, he couldn’t think of anyone who would care. Not even his boss, who had a tendency to drink his lunch on most days. A dead end life in a dead end world.