A Picture a Day, Keeps the Something Something

One Picture, One Story

Last Call

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Just give me another drink, damn it! I was irrational as I slammed my fist on the table. I needed just one more to get me through. Just one more to get up the courage to face another day of life; of existing.

Hey sweetheart! Can I get that while I’m young? Bloody Hell, it ain’t rocket science. Even I was surprised that I hadn’t been thrown into the gutter at this point. I swayed slowly in my seat as I tried to gain some equilibrium. I needed to get home, but I needed to get at least one more to face the empty apartment that awaited me. The bartender placed a single shot of vodka in front of me. I steadied myself trying to focus in the task at hand. Here’s to mediocrity! I drank it down and slammed the glass back on the counter. I stumbled to my feet and announced my departure. I’m off like a prom dress! I liked to think of myself as quite the comedian; a real Red Foxx. I gained what composure I could muster and I strutted confidently out the door.

Somehow I made it to my apartment and I stumbled through the door. I must have made it to my rocking chair before I lost consciousness because that is where I awoke. Damn headache, just bug off! I’m not entirely sure if I’ve ever expected the hangover to actually listen, but I still curse it nonetheless. If I had friends I’m sure they’d tell me I had it coming or I shouldn’t drink so much. Lucky for me I don’t have anyone to nag me or assault me with their judgemental anecdotes. Slowly I rubbed my eyes and allowed them to focus on the empty room. Why hello, room! You are looking quite charming this morning! I smiled ironically and got up from my chair. The clock struck 2 and I stumbled forward as the pair of chimes scooped what was left of my brain right out of my skull. Dammit clock! Shut up! Bloody, bloody Hell! I closed my eyes tight while I regained my balance. I go through this same scene every morning and I’m unsure as to why I haven’t thrown that clock into the flaming pit of Hell. Maybe it’s because that is the very place of its origin, sent here to torment my already tortured soul for eternity. I stuck a cup of yesterday’s coffee in the dingy, old microwave to warm it up, being extra vigilant to avert my eyes from the yellow glow from the appliance. BEEEP! It may as well have been a bloody fog horn!

BUZZ! Who the HELL would be at the door? BUZZ! I stepped lightly towards the door, careful not to trip on the uneven floor. I steadied myself as I turned the knob. In front of me stood my landlord with an envelope. Silently I snatched it from his hands and shut the door without uttering a word.

You have 24 hours to vacate the premises. If you fail to fulfill the preceding request you will be escorted off the property by law enforcement and your belongings will be seized.

Shit! I didn’t need this today. I gazed about my small apartment, taking a quick inventory of the contents. A well used chair, an old black and white TV, a dirty microwave and and old, tired single bed. You aren’t worth the trouble! I gave the room the finger as I packed what little clothes I had into my old, red suitcase.

I slipped my keys under the landlord’s door and burst out the front door into the terrible embrace of the afternoon sun. I stood silent for a few moments while I gathered my thoughts. I took my wallet from my back pocket and peered inside. $34.75 was all that I found. I made the executive decision to head to the harbour; people were always leaving food on the many picnic tables that lined the peer.

Excuse me, could you spare some change? I had made it to the harbour and scored a few leftover fries and a half eaten hot dog. I was looking to go to the bar to forget about the day I had survived. A passerby dropped a ten into my lap. Thank you, sir! God bless! I jumped to my feet and raced to the bar. Needless to say I needed the courage to face tomorrow….

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This entry was posted on October 27, 2013 by in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , .
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