Closer than you think.
I knew that I had to get up early this morning but, I still drank till I fell asleep on the couch with all the lights on the night before. There are little yellow stains of whiskey on the kitchen counter where I miss the glass, like there are yellow stains around the bowl where I miss as the mark when I piss it back out.
The alarm went off at 428am. I pulled myself out of bed. My apartment was cold and I plugged in the little heater and parked just outside the bathroom door as I showered.
I was on the road by 545. The sun was still on its way. The coffee house wasn’t open yet. But there was still heavy traffic down the road. On the way in I listened to old songs. The ones that made me sad I changed the station.
I wondered about the other drivers. Were they only there to get in my way. Did they drink too heavy the night before. Did they hate their job too. Was their kitchen floor as cold as mine under their bare feet at 430 in the morning. Or, did they leave behind someone wonderful still asleep in their bed. Did they kiss them goodbye and their lovers lips and morning breath arouse them. Did they fondle their sleeping plaything before reluctantly finding their way to the same damn road as mine.
I made it to work on time. There were others there before me. They brewed coffee. I sipped at my cup so not to burn my tongue. I leaned with my back against the wall. The coffee warmed my hands through the paper cup. But the sun still hadn’t shown. And I decided that I should probably keep a flask handy for mornings like these.