You wake up, stretch, climb out of the sleeping bag, ask, “What’s the day gonna bring?” You fill the kettle – it takes ages, and the water is brown – break a few matches before the gas catches. Your clothes are damp from condensation, the windows opaque with dead insects and mould. You find your tablets, toss them into your mouth, wash them down with the dregs of last night’s beer.
The radio crackles. There is a new world order.
You hear, “Ask not what the day can bring to you, but what you can bring to the day.”
You feel sick.
Written in response to the weekly 100 word challenge posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Click here to learn more; you know you want to.