Waking is not sudden, but a gradual struggle. My senses come back to me one by one. I feel the weight of my body returning, hear the fan blowing. My mouth becomes my enemy, as the bitter taste of morning makes itself known. My nose is stuffed, struggling to breathe, I sit up, and finally open my eyes. My vision is blurred at first, then clears and I look to my clock. 12:37 PM. Not so bad I mutter to myself. I stumble towards the bathroom, turning on the lights and cringing as the sudden contrast forces my pupils to shrink. Extending my hand towards the roll of toilet paper, so that I may evacuate my nostrils. Content, finally, with the state of my nose, my olfactory senses return. This is the first that I have smelled myself this morning. Not pleasant, but not altogether repulsive. It is of little consequence, for I will shower soon anyways. I stumble over to the mirror and behold the creature that stands before me. The squinting eyes, the wild, messy hair. I am the perfect image of the troglodyte. A sudden epiphany strikes, and at that moment I realize who I am. I am the club bearer. I am the saber-tooth slayer. I am the rock throwing, wife taking, fire burning ruler of the B.C. I am not just man prehistoric. I am the man that predates. I am a caveman.
Posted on: Thu, 27 Mar 2014 20:18:13 +0000
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