Hunched over his morning cereal as if it’ll be his only friend for the day.

His movements languorous,

his jaw earnest.

The only occupied swivel stool at the bar.

His companions cold creatures of turquoise plastic,

upright in their posture but unskilled in conversation.

Left to lap up his milk with only his dull, repetitive thoughts as entertainment,

not a single one able to drown out the monotony that pervades his humdrum life.

Abandoned by the hope that once reigned over his youth,

left with a bitter smell of exhausted ambition.


A day began like all others,

a day fated to dictate the rest.

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