Monday Morning - To the airport
The cab slowly comes to a halt at the nearest blue line station which lies underneath the highway above. I gaze at the fare even though it really doesn’t matter, every time I just hand them a 20 and ask for 5 back. In his thick african accent he thanks me as I climb out of the car. I close the door and can’t help but think I left something in there so I watch the cab as it takes off a…
Monday Morning - The Apartment
Screeching synthetic sounds of an orchestra reach my ears, pulling my subconscious from the intricate world of dreams. I sweep my hand under my pillow like that of a metal dectator, searching for the source of the alarm. I grab ahold of my phone and end the repetitive concert with a swift swipe of a finger. I tear back the comforter as I swing my lower half over the edge of my bed. I sit there…