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morning wood / magic

Double feature this time around.

Changed things up and added some stuff to “Morning Wood,” which makes it longer but, unfortunately, it’s perhaps still as cliché as ever. I like it, though.

“Magic” is actually something I wrote earlier. It’s decent. I keep feeling that it needs some sort of extra “oomph”, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out what it needs exactly.


“Morning Wood”

She was sleeping beside me with her head on my shoulder, bobbing up and down with the bus as it went over potholes and bumps. She had been asleep in the same position since the night before, that contented smile consoling me throughout the night when I found myself unable to sleep.

A new day was finally dawning. The sun rose over distant hills, bathing the earth in a soft, golden glow as we moved ever onwards, past rolling hills and vast fields of green.

We moved through a small town that was slowly coming to life after the slumber of night. Shops were starting to open and people moved about, doing whatever it is they do in the morning. A group of small children stood by the side of the road and watched our bus pass by, half-smiling in that coy way children tend to do.

“Maybe someday,” I thought to myself.

When we left the town behind, I shifted my gaze back towards the head still resting on my shoulder.

She looked so perfect, so serene.

I wanted to wake her up, to share the morning’s beauty with her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She was an angel asleep on my shoulder, proof that even in this rotten world there is some light left, and I didn’t want to disturb that for anything.

That look on her face made it all worthwhile.

I knew in my heart things weren’t going to be easy. Nothing ever is. We knew that we’d have to work together for the sake of our relationship, but we really wouldn’t have it any other way.

As I watched her sleep, I asked myself if I was willing to take the risk of having my heart broken again, of once again putting my heart in someone else’s hands.

But when she finally opened her eyes and smiled at me, I knew I was.


6:30 am. Monday morning.

Half-asleep, I feel around for the switch that turns on the bathroom lights and step inside. I fumble around near the sink and manage to turn on the tap.

Nothing at all.

I try the shower. Same thing.



Some things always happen when you need them the least.

Later in the morning, a change of clothing and liberal amounts of cologne allow me to sit comfortably at the cheap restaurant near my residence, sipping a cup of coffee while watching people mill about as I am wont to do, especially on Monday mornings.

My eyes dart from person to person, picking out notable faces from the crowds of people walking to and fro and just watching them until they dissolve once again into another crowd. Or even the same one they had momentarily emerged from.

That’s what people do in the city, you know. They disappear, re-appear and then disappear again.

I glance at my watch nervously as if I have an important deadline to meet. I quickly exit without paying for my coffee, leaving a still-steaming, half-empty cup of coffee, empty packets of sugar for company.

I hear the restaurateur call out to me, but I pay him no heed. Before he can chase after me, I pull my own disappearing act and vanish from sight, stepping into one of the crowds walking towards some unknown destination.

The chase is over before it even begins.

I move along with the crowd for a while. Just another dull face on another dull Monday morning.

Soon enough, as if on cue, it starts to rain.

Umbrellas start opening left and right, and the crowds begin to thin.

I take a long look at the heavens, pull my hoodie over my head, push my earphones into my ears, turn down a side-alley and magically re-appear.

Categories: prose and poetry
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