Sticky Sheets

It was a hot humid night which created the worst kind of sleep. Tossing, turning, dreams about locked doors and TV license men crawling on all fours, that kind of night. I felt like I never truly slept, but once 6 a.m. hit, I was up and out, escaping into the cool glow of the refrigerator.

As I drank my milk I noticed no sweat on my skin and shuddered at the thought of it all being stuck in my bed sheets. When I finally decided to change them, I only saw mushed-up Cadbury Creme Eggs. What about the sweat?

Marathon

He ran a 100-mile marathon on his own. He ran in his underwear. He kept a consistent pace and kept on gunning for the finish line. Up and down, round and round, he ran until he could no longer feel the underwear, it had become one with his skin. The only boring part of the marathon was how familiar his surroundings always seemed. Bins, bookshelves, table and chairs, he was seeing these every few seconds, and the repetition was getting to him. Closing his eyes helped, but that didn’t stop the banging on the ceiling from the flat below.

Heart Beat Beat

She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Her head felt safe here, and she could lie and listen to his heart softly beat. Ba-dump, ba-dump. Sometimes the heartbeat would be a little faster, a little heavier, but that didn’t bother her. It was like listening to the beat of a drum, and sometimes the tune would change depending on the mood, how he felt, or how she pressed herself up against him.

It was different today. There was no heartbeat, just a whistle coming from a hole in his nipple. It was the summer pop sensation.

Flat Moods

He sits on his flat balcony trying to relax. It’s a sunny day, a peaceful day, there is little to worry him, a rare day that he just wants to sit back and take in. But he is aware that the flat below, the flat to his right, the flat to his left, and the road below might contain people who are anything but relaxed. As he tries to relax he can only think of these people and wonders if they are going through difficult moments whilst he sits and drinks an iced latte picked up from the nearest BarBucks.

Hold Your Breath

Before heading outside, I stand by the front door and look through the peephole. The world outside looks much the same as the world inside, but I know that this isn’t the case. I breathe in all the air around me, a big ‘ah’ sucking it all inside me, then close my mouth, click open the lock, and head outside. I have to do this every day, I need my air, not their air.

I walk the streets holding my breath, I’m nearly suffocating by the time I reach the store. But I must, Earth is another planet these days.

Dark Clouds

He looked outside and the clouds were dark, and sullen, reflecting his mood and many others. He decided it was probably going to rain so closed the blinds and went back to bed. On a day like today, what would be the point of doing anything else? He slept soundly. 50

He dreamt of dark clouds filling every part of his dream, sky, wall, floor. The dark clouds had followed him. He felt glum surrounded by such darkness. When he woke up he knew they would still be waiting for him. He wished he picked a better week for a beach holiday.

Heavy Weighted Duvet

I woke up feeling a weight on my chest. The duvet was heavy, I couldn’t lift it, or pull it off my body. Maybe in the night someone had snuck in and swapped my original soft duvet with a heavy weighted duvet. It was harder to move than the largest weights in the gym, and as much as I pushed, I couldn’t get out. In fact, the duvet seemed to be getting heavier, wrapped around my body as if to shrink-wrap me like a collector’s character figure.

I simply continued lying in bed until my body sunk into the mattress.

Mysterious Text Adventure

I often imagine myself receiving a mysterious text message on my phone. The message would be something simple like a ‘Hello’, but replying would lead me down a rabbit hole of mystery and adventure, a mysterious text adventure. I could be the next Neo or the latest protagonist in a Murakami novel. I sit and imagine this, often looking at my phone in case the message of my dreams arrives.

And sometimes it does. And it’s a simple ‘Hello.’ I always look at it with a certain level of intrigue, but all I see is spam, delete. Down the rabbit hole…

Steamed Room

After a nice long swim, he was ready to relax in the steam room before heading back to his flat. He took the ice-cold shower as required to remove the chlorine from his body, then slowly opened the door, feeling the heat as steam started to pour out as if it’d been pushing against the door from the other side. Inside there was one man, incredibly ripped, no doubt from constant rigorous weights routines, sprawled out across all the seating.

He took one look at me, farted, got up and left. I sat inhaling the steam. It was very hot.

Now Loading

She sat patiently at the computer waiting for the page to load. A spinning circle was displayed in the centre of the screen with the words ‘Now Loading’ above, a little fancier than some websites. She watched the spinning circle for some time, but it never seemed to stop the page didn’t seem to load. Growing impatient, she reloaded, rebooted, and tried to make the page load faster, but the spinning wouldn’t stop, it started to make her feel dizzy.

She went out, went shopping, and it was still loading when she finally came back. The desire for porn had left.