Monday, 30 May 2011

Phil's Night

Phil opened his door, then shut it again.  He turned around and walked towards the
front room.  He glanced around for any sign of life, saw none and lumbered towards
the couch.  He sat down with a forceful lethargy and stared blankly at the broken TV.
His mind wandered.  Images of drunken nameless faces appeared in his scattered thoughts. 
The tall prick who insisted on putting on his own music for the whole night, "dubstep is
the only music worth two fucks these days". 
The girl who always had a little bag of pills with her, safely encased in that hello kitty purse with the spaghetti thin strap which she made herself.  The white guy with matted dreads, The couple who  should have stayed at home and the two guys who don't know anyone else. 
He was sure he remembered more, but he didn't care. 

He sat motionless for a while, not feeling anything...except hunger.  Hunger was valid at this moment in time, so he imagined a German man shouting at him which gave him the energy to stand up.  His eyes couldn't focus, as if there was a little man in his head twisting the little rings behind his swollen orbs to create a clear image but it just wasn't working.  Perhaps the little man didn't feel up to the job today and was sleeping. Phil didn't mind, he'd been able to see his whole life, the little man deserves a break.

Through his hazed vision he was able to make out a rectangle.  Luckily this was the door frame leading to the kitchen.  Phil is no stranger to his kitchen so he was able to navigate his way to the cold place filled with ...well nothing.  His blurred spheres showed his sickened brain a dim light, three wire shelves, an empty box of beer, a lettuce and an egg.  Phil momentarily considered combining the egg and lettuce to make a delicious serving of egguce, but decided to tough it out for a while.

He slumped down against the refrigerator and considered his life.  All of his accomplishments, all of his failures and all of his goals.  He was surprisingly unmoved by this introspection and went back to sleep.  His evening was over.  He felt nothing.  Phil is a cunt.

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