Sick
Last week I moved all the contents of the pockets of my winter jacket into the pockets of my summer jacket. I walk to work every day now, it's spring, albeit chilly in the mornings, but I need the exercise. I don't walk enough during the day. Only half of the ten thousand steps they say I ought to. Yesterday I woke up early, the sky was blue. I walked.
On the way to work there is a coffee shop. I peeked inside. There was only one women in front of me at the counter, so I stepped inside - there would be no wait. The girl behind the counter looked Cuban. Lips brown and pink. Very kissable. She had an air of hardness around her, but not the cold, cynical kind. Rather it was the face of a fighter, of someone with ambitions and will to work. I felt I could like her. Of course it could be she was just tired and hadn't put on a smile yet - that what I saw was just an honest, tired face. She charged me less than she ought to, so I liked her even more.
At work I had to sneeze multiple times before lunch, but I thought nothing of it, even when David, my colleague, suggested I had cought what he had earlier in the week. The two of us play chess together. We have a board between our desks and make a move ever so rarely. He always wins. I think I could win too, if I tried harder to look ahead.
After lunch my nose started running. The first day of a cold what comes out of my nose is watery, almost like tears, as if I was crying. I stayed at work until the end of the day, and took the bus home. I still didn't feel sick or weak, but thought it would probably be wise to take it easy.
I laid down on the bed to read a magazine, that for some reason had ended up in my mailbox. It had my name and address printed on it. I could'nt figure out why I had gotten it, or where they would have gotten my address. I thought maybe it was someone that I know that had ordered it so that I could see what they'd done in it, but I found no familar names on the list contributors. And I found no faces I know in the photographs as I browsed through the pages. Then fatigue rolled over me like an ocean and I fell to sleep in seconds.
On the way to work there is a coffee shop. I peeked inside. There was only one women in front of me at the counter, so I stepped inside - there would be no wait. The girl behind the counter looked Cuban. Lips brown and pink. Very kissable. She had an air of hardness around her, but not the cold, cynical kind. Rather it was the face of a fighter, of someone with ambitions and will to work. I felt I could like her. Of course it could be she was just tired and hadn't put on a smile yet - that what I saw was just an honest, tired face. She charged me less than she ought to, so I liked her even more.
At work I had to sneeze multiple times before lunch, but I thought nothing of it, even when David, my colleague, suggested I had cought what he had earlier in the week. The two of us play chess together. We have a board between our desks and make a move ever so rarely. He always wins. I think I could win too, if I tried harder to look ahead.
After lunch my nose started running. The first day of a cold what comes out of my nose is watery, almost like tears, as if I was crying. I stayed at work until the end of the day, and took the bus home. I still didn't feel sick or weak, but thought it would probably be wise to take it easy.
I laid down on the bed to read a magazine, that for some reason had ended up in my mailbox. It had my name and address printed on it. I could'nt figure out why I had gotten it, or where they would have gotten my address. I thought maybe it was someone that I know that had ordered it so that I could see what they'd done in it, but I found no familar names on the list contributors. And I found no faces I know in the photographs as I browsed through the pages. Then fatigue rolled over me like an ocean and I fell to sleep in seconds.
posted by nemolom at 09:39
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