Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Insomniac, Part 5

Harold came home from the grocery store with three boxes of Hostess donettes, since they were going out of business after all, a bag of Frito's, a bottle of Mountain Dew, sour cream, drain cleaner, mini muffins, which he knew fell into the same category with the donettes, but he didn't care, and a Sunday paper. 

He hadn't remembered to buy coffee or milk.

He got home at 7:43 am and crawled back into bed at 8:11 am. 

He woke up with a jolt at 10:46 am, when his daughter got up and started slamming cabinet doors in the kitchen, presumably to find coffee that wasn't there.  He could hear her all the way through the den, up the stairs, and around the corner to his room. 

She was still slamming doors, the pantry door and even the door out to the garage, when he shuffled into the kitchen.  His son was sitting in front of the television, eating Coco Roos out of a salad bowl with the TV turned on.  The sound was set so low it may as well have been muted.  What the hell was wrong with that boy?

"I'm going to have breakfast at fucking Starbucks!" his daughter yelled.  She left the kitchen door open, got into her black Hummer and backed out of the garage before the automatic door was all the way up.  His wife had said that she needed something solid and reliable and bought her the Hummer. Harold remembered his first car.  It was a twelve year old Chevy Nova.  He had loved that car.

Harold's wallet lay open on the counter.  There was no cash in it. 

Thank you for listening, jules

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