Monday, May 13, 2013

Captivity

            Matt woke up on the couch around 8:00 in the morning. He was having terrible dreams about moths eating though all his clothes. The moths were hard to catch and looked more like folded bits of paper fluttering around in a strong breeze. They were chewing through every shirt and tee-shirt he owned and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do. Except wake up, which he did.

            He was disappointed to find himself on the couch. He’d wanted to make it into his bed at least once this weekend. He was always getting home too late from the bar, half in the bag, and falling asleep on the couch. He didn’t want to but it just seemed that his body had enough and wanted to shut off right where it was. At least he didn’t fall asleep in the bar. That was just not done.

            He checked the time on his phone to make sure he was as disoriented as he thought. It was just after 8:00 a.m. now.  Why did his body, so crazy tired a few hours ago, want to wake up now? He didn’t have to pee. He didn’t have any where to be. He just snapped awake. Like someone had flipped a switch. He sat up and felt a terrible stiffness in his elbow where he had apparently been lying on it. He extended his arm and tried to stretch it out. He stood from the couch and felt soreness all through his body. It was cold in the house. He’d left a window open and a very chilly spring breeze was blowing in. Matt moved toward the window and shut it and shivered a little.

            He shuffled slowly toward the kitchen and considered making something to eat, or maybe a cup of coffee, but that seemed like a lot of work for so early Sunday morning. He dragged his feet through the kitchen and stopped at the sink. It was filled with dishes yet to be loaded into the dishwasher. He hated that he’d gotten so lazy that he didn’t even want to bother with it. He thought about getting started on that chore, but was overwhelmed with not wanting to do it. He looked out the window that faced the back yard and thought that it would be nice to spend a quiet afternoon reading in his lawn chair out there. But that thought was once again quashed by just not feeling of just not wanting to do it.

            Matt turned from the window and shuffled back toward the living room. He remembered he did want a Coke and grabbed one out of the pantry as he passed by. He cracked it open as he shuffled and took a long satisfying drink. There was nothing like a room temperature Coke for a hang over. Matt moved back the couch and took up his usual sitting position. He turned on the TV that was over the fire place and started mindlessly flipping through the channels looking for something to watch. The History Channel never really failed him. After a few minutes he was hearing all about the undiscovered relics littered across the Great Plains left by Mezo-Americans. 

            A few moment later and Matt was drifting back to sleep. The quiet intensity of the narrator’s voice rocked Matt back to sleep like a lullaby and his chin dropped to his chest. He dreamed of cowboys and sun baked deserts. He felt himself carried along some dusty wagon trail through treacherous Indian Territory. He had a rifle. He rode fast. It was always twilight or dawn. Then the dream faded as Matt fell into a deeper sleep.

            Matt opened his eyes and took a long somewhat startled breath. He looked around him and realized he was again on the couch. He looked over at the wall clock and it was 1:30 in the afternoon. The History Channel was still on, some show about how aliens were building Aztec spaceships or something silly like that. Matt checked his phone, to see if there were any calls he missed or e-mails, or messages. Nothing. No one called, no one messaged him in any way. He put his phone down and grabbed his Coke on the end table next to the couch. He took a quick sip.

            “Damn it,” he muttered to himself.

            Matt put his Coke down and stood up from the couch. He felt stiffness in his back immediately from sleeping while sitting up. He stretched and reached up high above his head. He grunted and moaned like aging men do whenever they attempt some physical activity. Matt shuffled away from the couch and toward the bathroom. It was about time to move some things around in there. He took his phone with him because that’s what people do now. It seems perfectly acceptable to check the social media outlets while sitting on the throne these days. Matt remembered that he used to have magazines he took to the bathroom.

            Once done in the bathroom and caught up on the doings of all his Facebook and Twitter friends Matt felt completely alone. No pokes, or messages, or likes or anything. He looked out at his living room, so dusty and tired looking, and wanted new furniture. He wanted a new set up and was tired of how the couches sagged. He then blamed himself for the sagging since it was he who made them that way. Matt shuffled through the living room and back into the kitchen. He was hungry now but didn’t have much in the fridge to eat. He found a microwave tuna casserole thing and decided that would have to do until dinner time.

            Matt thought about getting something else for dinner. He thought maybe he could find the energy to go to the store and get his shopping done. He through about it while his tuna got micro waved. Matt shuffled back toward the living room and plopped back on the couch. He wasn’t leaving the house today. 

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