Contemporaneous: Chapter 13
13. Morning comes with the same inextricable routine that has become my life: snooze the alarm twice, get out of bed, do my morning stretches, have breakfast, have my Words shot and brush my teeth (I swap A, A, U, in one game, and typically get back a Q, and H and M, and in the other game I swap four Es and get back W, V, V, M – honestly, this is a fucking farce), shower, and once I’m dressed, drive to work. Gainsboro Publishing occupies a refurbished loft just on the fringe of the industrial sector in the southern suburbs – not the most glamorous or affluent,…
Contemporaneous: Chapters’ 8 – 12.
8. I wake too early like I ‘ve done every day since I was on antidepressants for five years over twenty years ago, and they fucked with my sleep, and even now, even with them clean from my system, the side-effects they introduce remain. Grabbing my phone from the bedside drawer where my clock radio sits, I check it, tensing as I expect some Lana diatribe. Sometimes she does that, sending me an essay detailing why I’ve behaved so poorly, a guided tour into my inadequacies that immerses me in guilt that overwhelms any equilibrium I have, until all that remains is the doubt that maybe, just maybe, I…