this morning #44.

this morning, as a smattering of fruit flies or gnats or some such kitchen pests flittered just above his face, he stepped out of his bed & onto congealed strings of cheese in a greasy, torn-open pizza box. last night had been equal parts trip down memory lane & experiment into shredding his short-term memory, there were bodies laid out on the sectional in the living room, all of them asleep but all of them about to realize the same foggy fate. when they finally awoke in mid-afternoon, he would close up his laptop & join them in their lounging & bullshitting. the evening had begun again.