hotel

Watching the clock. My sleep continually herded away by disappointing half-dreams. Sleep is pointless, but I refuse to surrender my rest to my psyche. 6:20, I toss aside the covers just before my automated wakeup call. Curtains drawn, the hotel room hushed, not with any expectency, its only the banal drowsiness of waking business travellers. I pull on a t-shirt - looking at my body in the mirror before I do so, hoping to see rippling abs. nope. The shoulders look ok though.

Shaving with soap, skin abraded by a dull razor. The shower is hot, and here the soap coats my fingers with a creamy white. The texture of the bar firm, but melts under the pressure of my fingers. Fodder for my starved senses. The shampoo is a citrus - surprisingly bright in this padded room of understated beige and wood.

I put on some Metric - the sounds of their disconnection playing in my head even before I even hear the music. It sounds terrible on my laptop. So its the headphones and I start to write - but its too much bleakness for the morning. I lack the anger to turn it into energy.

kd lang then, brightening my spirits in time to the dawn light coming through the open curtains.