(new writing exercise...write from random questions/statements.)
I got up at 3:30am. The goddamned car wouldn't start. It was three degrees. Negative six wind-chill. I jumped the battery by myself in the snow; pitch black, heavy Mag-lite falling out of my grip as I was holding up the hood. Flashlight pinched between my shoulder and my ear like a receptionist's phone. I started the truck and went inside to have a cup-a-coffee. My fingers were numb through my gloves and I wanted to hold the mug like housewifes on commercials do after they take their kids to daycare. I wanted some insurance and safety for a minute. But then that thought would go away soon. I was on my own.
The t.v. was on inside and I heard pieces of it coming through the living room doorway as I thawed my hands on my mug. It was cartoons. Old cartoons. Warner Brothers when they were still hand-drawn. It made me happy and I saw his eyeballs glisten in the dark from the glow of the screen. He couldn't sleep cuz I was making too much noise but he didn't say a thing...just watched his cartoons and i think he glanced at me standing in the doorway from the dark but it was hard to tell. If he did only his eyes moved.
The t.v. was on inside and I heard pieces of it coming through the living room doorway as I thawed my hands on my mug. It was cartoons. Old cartoons. Warner Brothers when they were still hand-drawn. It made me happy and I saw his eyeballs glisten in the dark from the glow of the screen. He couldn't sleep cuz I was making too much noise but he didn't say a thing...just watched his cartoons and i think he glanced at me standing in the doorway from the dark but it was hard to tell. If he did only his eyes moved.
Then I drove to the east side of the state and then I went to work.
"Get outta bed," I say. "We got lives to run."
"Get outta bed," I say. "We got lives to run."
"It's a town fulla losers and we're pullin' outta here to win. -The Boss (B.Springsteen)
