littératuricide - Mon Apr 7

430 am, 30 mins before his alarm goes off he is awake laying there staring at the green numbers of his clock. The alarm set for five, he reaches over and presses random buttons, and till the small bell disappears signaling that the alarm has been turned off. Getting out of bed he walk thru his apartment in the dark. He can hear the rain against the window, the sound of a odd car splashing its way along at the early hour.

He feels hung over, but it’s just the after effect of the medication he takes to fall asleep at night, he had not a drink in over a month. He does however have a chest infection, yet he  opened the balcony door and stepped out in to the rain, in his running shoes, and boxer shorts to have a smoke.  His chest feels tight, heavy, while his head pounds, and the wind  and the rain chill his exposed skin. Every morning is the same. There has been little change, he still feels wrong, and as he watched as the cars splash by he thinks to himself, how long can this really go on?