After a discomforting restless sleepless night of pain, 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 or function as the classical music plays he scrapes his rigamortis laden corpse across the floor to prepare his coffee, as his hands shake and tremble he pours in the water and counts the scoops of grind, then after fumbling he manages to plug in the percolator and as the coffee begins to perc he shuffles off to the toilet, in a hungerous ragging fit his bowels bellow out, staring blankly into the abyss his reflection in the mirror shows his disheveled hair and beard to tired to care he stumbles back to his bed, he struggles to pull on his pants socks and shoes, he pours a cup of coffee then gently packs scraps of tobacco into his pipe, he steps out the door, the pre-dawn sky is dark as dark can be the air humid and hot like walking into a bread oven, as the world barely spins it is clear not a single soul cares for the horrish existence the old man is forced to endure yet another wretched day;
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