Every day I sit here, and it’s the same. Coffee to my right, a donut to my left—pink icing, white sprinkles. I twist ever so slightly in the squeaky seat, drum my fingers on the formica table top. The harsh florescent hums above me. Morning light floods long storefront windows. A siren oscillates in the distance.
It’s 8 o’clock. I see the digits high on the chipped plaster wall—they’re red, hypnotic, absolute.
I like absolute. I like certainty. I like knowing what will happen next. I like knowing when and how, but even as much as I do, when I raise the donut to my lips—the familiar hint of sugar and fried dough wafting past my nostrils; the touch, texture and taste of the iced coating melting upon my lips; the satisfying feel of the crispy sweet dough severed between capped teeth; the taste: perfect, as I swallow each morsel—I have to wonder: What brings me here?
Before me, through the windows, within dawn’s peaceful light, the red and blue strobe of emergency vehicles flash and turn; like everyday, every time, without fail. The crushed metal and shattered glass of another life taken
Coffee to my right, donut to my left, the lights flashing before me; mixing their colors with the white sprinkles—a patriotic splash upon my fried confection.
My eyes glaze over, misted by the regularity—a known quantity to life; there is a beauty to it all, and a horror. But I do not think, I only appreciate the fact that I know one thing that will happen every day, as I put the hot coffee to my lips and sip.
Coffee to my right, donut to my left.
© 2012 Clifton Hill, all rights reserved.
Creeped out? Good!
Perhaps this is a slight commentary on how we like things in life. Despite the fact that they are not good for us, we like the regularity, we like to repeat, and do the same. There is something intrinsically, obsessively compulsive about it, but also: comfortable.
Do we seek it, or does it seek us. The chicken or the egg?
Or maybe this was just a visual that popped into my head, meaningless and yet gripping in some indescribable fashion.
I do like it. I thought of it more as an alternate world setting or some sort of hell. We are punished to repeat history, but nobody seems to try to avoid the punishment. Interesting. Well done.ReplyDelete
I like your perception of the allegory and thanks for reading!ReplyDelete