words.abscond.org

Day without socks

The body pangs from the New Year’s Eve medicine. Every cigarette I smoke in bed makes me feel worse, but I smoke more.

I watch TV on demand and cook an omelet, read all of my inboxes and do just enough of my to do list to stop my pangs turning into a panic attack.

There is a drunk man buzzing all the flats in the building. We lean out of the windows to see if there is something to understand if there is something wrong that we can fix.

I move the laptop charger to my table, enforcing me to spend at least a quarter of my day 3 meters away from bed. I spend an awful lot of time doing nothing.

I compose writing in my head that I don’t get round to typing. There are cigarettes to smoke.