Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
BEEP.
He stirs and hits the button to silence the alarm without opening his eyes. Struggling against the covers he manages to heave his body into a sitting position. His hands rub his eyes with a vengeance and they are finally able to open and blink against the darkness of the room. Another day.
Reaching to his nightstand he grabs the glass of water and pill container. Pop. Pop. Glug. Glug. He shudders as the familiar bite slides down his throat. Then he pushes himself to his feet and shuffles into his day.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
RING.
Opening bell, the market is open. His eyes scan the numbers. Green is good. Red is bad. His mind takes it all in and processes the calculations and possibilities, all fueled by the morning dose of meds. But, he can feel them wearing off. The scrolling symbols and values are starting to blur. The day has just started.
He lets his vision slide away from the screen long enough to assist his hand in locating the bottle of water stored next to the keyboard while his other hand opens the top drawer and pulls out the pill container. Pop. Pop. Glug. Glug. He shudders as the familiar bite slides down his throat. His eyes snap back to the stock board and he rises into action, calling out orders, changing the world.
Honk.
Honk.
Honk.
HONK.
He would love to move, to oblige the car behind him and carry on through the intersection, but there is no place for him to go, just as there is no place for the car in front of him to go either. Rush hour. Everyone flooding the streets to race home to their families, their dinners, their televisions, their vices. He considers replying to the horn with a hand gesture, but the throbbing in his head changes his mind.
His scan from rearview mirror to windshield to the bottle of water on his passenger seat and he grabs it and then pops open the glove box and removes the pill container with familiar ease. Pop. Pop. Glug. Glug. He shudders as the familiar bite slides down his throat. The red light changes to green and he slowly removes the pressure on the brake so his car can gently resume his homeward bound progress.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
BEEP.
He yanks open the microwave door and carefully removes his steaming dinner, beef stroganoff. He pokes at the contents of the plastic tray as he makes his way to his couch and the small table he has set up there. Taking in a forkful he frowns as the bland and slimy noodles dance across his tongue. His dinner is boring. His life is boring and he aches for so much more.
He isn’t even really watching the TV so he doesn’t miss anything as he reaches between the couch cushions and pulls out the pill container he keeps there and then grabs the water glass from the table in front of him. Pop. Pop. Glug. Glug. He shudders as the familiar bite slides down his throat. Then the room swirls around him as he brings a close to another day.
Image Credit: LedyCap