Monday, December 29, 2008

Cold Rain, Good Food, and the Strange Feeling of Going to Work (Without Dread)

Cabin fever and its accompanying symptoms have started to enshroud the occupants of the flat like a thinly veiled mist. The pretty young thing in the blue hoodie twirls her hair, deeply enthralled by her cheap paperback. She is an avid reader and was educated by artists at the finest of institutions; thus, she is naturally drawn to the novels’ myriad allusions to symbolism in the realm of religious artifacts. For this fact alone, she can be excused for delving so wholeheartedly into a story with such an otherwise contrived narrative.

The man sits typing, bent over the computer resting in his lap like a vulture picking at roadside carrion. It is again raining sheets outside. The precipitation is coupled with a sharp sea breeze that quickly turns even the briefest of cigarette breaks into an arduous test of human endurance. The man attempts to put words into sentences, but he is incessantly distracted. A tempo change in the background music, the sound of pages turning, a rattling in the above flat…the poor soul was raised on MTV and, alas, he is now equipped with the attention span of a housefly. Despite the Sisyphean task that lies ahead he trudges onward…hunting and pecking on the keyboard – a constant battle waged with the word processor and its tyrannical grammar check.

The people are both perfectly comfortable in their respective pastimes and the room is surely large enough to ward off any feeling of claustrophobia, but they both unconsciously feel as if they should be amongst others. With bones warmed by a recent shower, they are both entertained for the time being; however, their youthful energy and spendthrift tendencies will soon prevail. Into the night my children, into the cold night…

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