Repeat

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is really just a summary thing for english.

Submitted: May 22, 2008

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Submitted: May 22, 2008

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Six o’clock again. The man wakes up to the same dull tone of the alarm as he has for almost as long as he can remember. Sighing, he reaches across the pillow that has lain empty for about the lain empty for the same amount of time and hit’s the snooze button. Five minutes later he wakes up to the same dull sound, echoing bluntly through the apartment, bouncing off the bare walls and hollow rooms. Without thinking, the man switches off the clock, not bothering to look around the long deserted, undecorated room, he starts the routine, not bothering to think, not bothering to breathe.
Stumbling into the kitchen of the barren apartment, he begins the ritual which seems to occupy so much of his life. First he makes coffee, a five minute process performed, precisely, mutely, without thinking. Then the shave; every morning, methodicly removing the facial hair he once had, never looking in the mirror, never realizing that there is nothing to shave. Then the shower, the same cold water almost waking him up, almost shocking life into the once man habit, almost forcing him to breathe.
Finally comes the clothing. First the tie, crisp, and blue. Always. Then comes the pants. Blue and striking, nicely bold and fluid. Then the shirt. Blue, calming, almost. A solid presence. Then comes the watch, a cold metal reminder to watch the clock. A pointless gesture; the watch stopped long ago. Finally Comes the socks, The only thing not laid out for him already. With his usual morning trepidation, the man goes to the sock drawer and begins pulling out socks, not finding what he seeks. Yet as he nears the bottomof the drawer, he slows down, pulling them one at a time away from the wood, each slower to come away than the last one, until he has reached the object he seeks.
With shaking hands he pulls the picture from the depths of the drawers, as he has every morning since he can remember. The picture of the Woman with blue eyes. Slowly, ever slowly he puts the picture under the pillow, reminding himself time and time again that she is gone, s he slowly gets back into bed again, eventually falling asleep.
Six o’clock again..


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