After a pain filled sleepless night the old man drags his breathless lifeless corpse out of a sunken bed of jagged shards of thorny rocky glass and steel, unable to yet see as the classical music plays he drags his stiff corpse across the floor to prepare his coffee, as his hands shake and tremble he pours in the water and scoops of grind, after fumbling he manages to plug in the percolator and as the coffee begins to perc he shuffles off to the toilet, where his bowels bellow out in a hungerous rage, in the mirror confused and exhausted the old man stare off into the abyss, his hair and beard disheveled, to tired to care he stumbles back to his bed where he struggles to pull on his socks and pants, he slips on his slippers and pours a cup of coffee and gently packs scraps of tobacco into his pipe, he slips out the door the morning is dark and gray the air cool and damp, as the world begins to rise not a soul takes care for the old mans hellish plight he is forced to endure yet another day;

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