My Day

So a double post today, I got rejected from something, so I just need to post things. This was originally titled David's day, because "my day" didn't sound right.


"David’s Day"

He awoke to the mixed sounds of Metallica and his cell phone battling for attention. Rolling over, under the burden of his clouded consciousness, he paused the alarms for a few minutes, time enough to file the thoughts of a night spent tossing and turning under the influence of an active imagination and month old salt-water taffy. The cell phone chimed in four minutes later and David passed from bed to floor in a stumbling waltz with gravity. He checked the mirror and wiped the calcium/sodium crust from his eyes before washing. “Time to wake up” he thought as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the cabinet beneath the sink. He left his apartment with the want for a nap impulsively announcing itself within his head.
The wait for the bus, in the mid-morning sun, brings a heightened sense of sound in anticipation of the coming bus. A passing bike sings by as its tires gently assault the pavement beneath, two birds discuss the curiosity of a visible sun, over David’s shoulder. He thinks to himself contently that it must be spring now, the birds are out. The bus arrives’ its normal minute and a half late. The students step on and wander to the open seats as the driver lunges the bus forward sending the wanderers into a drunken dance with momentum. They arrive at school as the driver shouts his rehearsed send-off “Behold my lord! The shining halls of acadamia, it doth glow like a zit in the night.” They stampede off the bus in a mood of amused confusion at the utterance. Led along by routine, David traversed the path to class in his familiar automated drift, carried along by familiarity in his drowsy state.
French class started like always, with a conventional French greeting followed closely by a wave of confusion. This tsunami of ignorance persisted the length of class for David, as he huddled under the safe familiarity of his day-dreams, hoping to stay dry. Every pause in the teacher’s guttural uttering’s snapped David back from his thoughts to face the fear of being called on and having his ignorance exposed. Once the teacher selected another student, David allowed himself to return to the serene state of his thoughts, until class finally ended, releasing him into the blissful relief of a five minutes walk.
English class, a time of deep intellectualizing coupled with faked understanding. The professor, hip in a fashion not fully aware to himself, professes the virtues of Radiohead as related to the transcendental travel narrative being discussed. His notes on the board appear a web of encircled plot points connected by double-backing arrows and exclamation points, a cryptic roadmap to anyone not familiar with the immediate discussion, and a confusing reminder to the linked diffusion of thought spawned from speculation, for the few who committed their attention to it. Finally he turned from the attentive class and exclaimed “Oh my God, I’ve just realized the horror I’ve placed up here.” David laughs at the lighthearted reference to the class material. After what seems a short while, class ends and David feels free to relax in a familiar setting.
He gets on the sardine can bus and returns home in a zombie trot. He steps inside the soiled apartment entrance and shuffles to his broken down department store chair, ready to end the day in an anti-climatic drone. He boots up the computer as the fans whir to life and set the mood of unshakable buzzing. When night arrives, David lazily plucks his contacts from his eyes and lays his head on the unmade bed. He drifts to sleep in the hungry stillness of his mind, stomach protesting noisily at length.

David forgot to eat.