After a sleepless night of pain the exhausted old man drags his frozen breathless lifeless corpse from a sunken bed of jagged shards of rocky thorny steel, unable to yet see as the classical music plays he drags himself off to prepare his coffee, as his shaky hands tremble he pours in the water counts the scoops of grind and fumbles to plug in the percolator, as the coffee begins to perc he shuffles off to the toilet, his bowels bellow out in a hungerous rage, in the mirror a tired face stares off into the abyss reflecting that his hair and beard are as disheveled as his pitiful existence, slowly he stumbles back 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 scraps of tobacco, he pulls on his coat and shuffles out the door, the morning is cold and damp the sun is barely rising and as the world begins to wake not a soul takes care for the enduring hell of life the old man must face yet another day;
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