After a night of restless sleepless pain, the old man slowly drags his breathless lifeless stiffened corpse out of a sunken bed of jagged thorny shards of rocky glass, unable to yet see and as the classical music plays he drags himself off to prepare his coffee, as his hand tremble he pours in the water and counts the scoops of grind, fumbling he manages to plug in the percolator and as the coffee begins to perc, he stumbles off to the toilet, where his bowels in a fit of hungerous rage bellow out, in the mirror the empty stare into the abyss shows the exhaustion of life, his hair and beard disheveled his hands struggle to grasp the brush as he attempts to brush them out, then he shuffles off to his bed where he struggles to pull on his socks pants and shoes, he pours a cup of coffee and gently packs his pipe with tobacco, silently he slips out the door, the morning is dark and gray the air mild and moist, as the world begins to rise not a soul cares for the enduring hellish plight he forced to face yet another day;
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