Lonely Man Chronicles: The Morning After

by admin on May 13, 2011

Lonely Man Chronicles

The Morning After

Is it still daylight? Why can’t he just sleep until tomorrow, sleep away the days’ pain? At least if it rained, it would match his mood. He remembers a song by The Cure, “All Cats Are Grey”, a highly depressing song with matching depressing music. Rolling out of bed, he reaches for his slippers. Then it hits him: That throbbing, that’s a hangover. Absolutely no doubt about it. Right in the middle of his forehead is where the origin of his problem starts, quickly going behind his eyes causing a strange yet familiar sensation, pain. It doesn’t come often, these headaches, but once there, no vacancy.
Robe on, still groggy, the refrigerator becomes his first destination. What a major disappointment. Only condiments and old Chinese, probably ordered sometime last week in a drunken stupor. A carton of milk sits on the top shelf. Shaking it, he remembers from somewhere that milk shouldn’t be chunky, so he declines to bother smelling it for freshness. Flaccid penis leading the way from under his once bright white robe, he shuts the fridge door and heads towards the bathroom, passing the balcony’s sliding glass doors, noticing the rain just beginning to fall. The ping!, ping!, ping! of the rain bouncing off his windowed air conditioning echoes throughout the apartment.
Once in the bathroom with slippers removed, newborn naked, waiting for the water to reach the desired temperature, he feels relief in the gathering steam alone. Lather from body wash cumulates with the water coating his torso. He becomes semi-erect, basking in the heat, becoming aroused as the burden of last night’s inebriation dissipates in the billowing steam, finally allowing him peace.

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