Pieces

I'm so retardedly busy right now and really don't feel like posting something new, but it's about time that I posted something soI thought I might put up an excerpt of a piece I am writing just because I am too lazy to supply you with anything original. Here it is:


That morning, I was putting a bowl into the dishwasher when it shattered to pieces in my hands. Hundreds of tiny, jagged glass fragments scattered the floor and littered the inside of the machine. I didn’t have time to pick out all the shards, so I left them there. It’s often easier to leave the pieces where they lay instead of picking them up in a hurry. It’s the same feeling I get when I am awakened in the middle of the night by her screaming. I am too lazy get out of my warm bed to go pick up the pieces, to mop up the mess. When I do, she often mumbles something incoherent because her medication inhibits her motor functions. I never know whether I have woken her or whether she is still sleeping lest the screaming begins again. When I get back to bed, and settle into the comfort of my covers, my body shakes so hard it feels like its going to shatter into a thousand pieces. It’s hard to keep it together when you know someone you love is falling apart in the room next to yours.