The Morning

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My alarm clock sings a horrible song 'Beep Beep Beep' I try to turn it off without looking, using touch as my only sense I feel around the clock for the switch off button but I can't find it. "Ugh!" I groan and open my eyes. I look closely as my eyes come into focus and I shut the noise off. Then face planting the pillow, I realise I'm awake now.

I have to get up for work anyway. I tell myself so I don't feel so bad. I swing my legs out my bed and the cold air shivers through me. I step on to the floor and walk to my wardrobe. I untangle the uniform, which is a yellow café little dress like they had in the eighty's with a white apron and a name tag, from the hanger.

I head to the kitchen and open the fridge. Great milks out of date. *sarcasm* Guess I'll just have toast. I put some bread in the toaster and pour the smelly, lumpy, expired milk down the drain. Milo! I remember. My goldfish, Milo, I open the small punnet of fish food and pour a tiny bit in for him.

The smoke alarm sets off. Beep, Beep, Beep, like my alarm but ten times louder and more annoying. I stand on my small, fabric, cheap sofa and pull it alarm off the tall, dry, white wall and attempt to switch it off but it won't. "Shut up!" I exclaim as I repeatedly bang it against the table. Finally it stops beeping so I hang it back up.

I smell something bad, smokey, it's smoke! My toast! I run over to the toaster but before I can reach it, it flames up. "Ah!" I exclaim and abort mission. Fire extinguisher! I run into the hall and grab it then return to the firey toaster where I spray it with the extinguisher until I'm sure it's deflamed.

"Guess it'll be a no breakfast morning again." I sigh and take a swig of juice from the carton. What? Don't judge me. I live alone, no one else needs to drink from it. I leave the toaster in a messy ash pile until I return home otherwise I'll be late.

I slip on my small, black, flats and rush down the flat stairs and head to the bus stop. "Wait! Please wait!" I shout after the bus as I approach the top of the road and the bus pulls off. "Stop!" I yell and begin running after it. The bus chugs to a stop, I catch up with it and the doors open. "Thanks Harold." I breathe out as I catch my breath and hand him the two pound forty it costs to ride to work and sit down.

"Almost missed you there," A voice says from behind me, I turn to see Alfie, a man who lives in my building, he's twenty years old and always talks to me but I don't know why. "But it didn't." I state and turn back around "You always talk to me like I'm shit," Alfie states
"No I don't, I'm just never in the mood to talk," I lie. Honestly, I find him pretty gross, I may be poor but I still work hard to make myself look good or at least appealing but him, no, he wears a white vest top and jeans, he has a stable and is quite thin, he's always sweaty and smelly and has a silver tooth. There's just something creepy about him that I don't like.

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