4 am (Click, click, hum)Posted: July 7, 2009
Dylan’s room beat out a comforting tune as he lay wide awake, sheets tossed in odd configurations about him, limbs strewn across the bed.
A click, click, click, click from the fan.
A consistent hum from the computer.
The gentle tap tap tap of rain on the window.
The overall effect was a music of sorts.
It was almost enough to lull him to sleep, were it not for the thoughts roaring discordantly through his head. He turned this way and that way and jammed his eyes shut, desperately trying to get the past day’s events out of his mind and wrestling with the memories of his earlier phone conversation, which was really the root of it all.
It had been 2 am exactly – he knew, he had been watching the clock listlessly – when the phone had rung, disturbing the lullaby that almost led him into dreamland. Blearily, he had picked it up, and equally blearily, he had listened to the sobbing coming from the other end.
When he first discerned the identity of the blubbering on the other end, his entire soul soured with fresh hope, revived from a stinking pile of rejections and all around angst.
When he finally discerned the subject of the blubbering on the other end, his entire soul sunk even further under aforementioned stinking pile and buried itself within a nice cocoon of loss and misdirected rage.
Yet another loss to add to his record.
Dylan had hung up without a word, without letting the person on the other end finish.
Now, two hours later, he was still as awake as he had been right when the phone rang.
His mind beat out another music of sorts.
Dylan’s mind clashed terribly with his room in that aspect.
((Candycoated Toxins here.))