this morning #10.

this morning, there was something in the air. it was gas, gas that had been filling up his apartment from the time that he pulled his 3am mac & cheese from the stove & quickly passed out on the couch to the time he awoke hours later in an olfactory panic. he quickly blew out the still-burning candle on the coffee table & rushed to the kitchen, cracking windows & turning on fans en route. he could have died. fire & explosion & a building collapsing on his skull. he pulled up a chair at the kitchen table & tucked his hair behind his ear & stared straight ahead. he could have died last night, on a world-worn sofa retrieved from the sidewalk, but instead he was here in his mind.