Strange mornings

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Vagabond Tim

I was seated at a table with Johnny Depp and a mid eighties Mickey Rourke playing cards, the table was tattered, faded felt peeling back from the wood beneath. Through the odd sepia toned lights and smoke I noticed they they were both beginning to grow impatient, which reminded me I should probably play a card. It occurred to me that I was not entirely certain what game we were playing or why the only card in my hand was the blue of forks.

I surveyed the table hoping to glean some insight from the game in progress but was met with an odd assortment of toy trains and gingerbread stations. Looking up to the other players I determined two things were about to occur, one my lifelong dream of having my ass kicked in a bar fight with Mickey Rourke will be fulfilled, and two an insurance claim was going to be filed by the owner of this establishment.

Suddenly a shrill noise echoed through the room, falling backward off my chair I hit my head on something fairly solid. Shaking stars from my vision the noise became more imperative and a piercing light began flashing before my eyes. Groping blindly for the source of my torment I attempted to choke the life out of it and was met with a confused voice.


I was too startled to unleash the blue streak of hate filled curses I had been working on and instead replied in kind.

“It’s Jess, you know it is 9:30?”

And that is why I was late for work on Thursday.

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