describing morning
The day starts out in rushes… in fits and jumps and spasms of uncertainty and foggy motor function. The water that beats down is hot and the steam that surrounds deepens the sense of disconnection. The television is annoying and the smell of coffee is the only life in the room. The toaster pops and is followed quickly by the grating sound of a knife scraping across burned bread. The television spits news (it hurts to call it that) and there is a low, slightly warm sun just visible through the curtains above the sink. The refrigerator is opened and left as the sound of silverware heads to a crescendo. With a final slam of a knife the drawer slams and the refrigerator closes. Then there is a silence. Footsteps. A Door opens… closes. Through the walls… a car door… the sound of engine as it turns over… fading as it drives slowly off into another morning.
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