One Hour

He showed up to the party at nine, the time on the invite said seven. There were people everywhere. He floated between rooms trying to find the host, there were too many people that he didn’t know. He was feeling uncomfortable until he spotted the host and waved.

He ate some of the snacks that were laid out for everyone. He looked at his phone to check the time. It had only been five minutes. He sighed, he did not want to be at this party. He tried to mingle. All he could think of for conversations were the weather, and the snacks.  He could only get a couple sentences before it fizzled.

Another ten minutes were wasted. He sat on the couch. He watched the time tick down on the clock. He got up after another fifteen minutes.

He had spent a grand total of a half hour at the party before he left. He didn’t say goodbye to anyone he just left. He walked to his car, lighting a cigarette as he opened the door. He drove home feeling exhausted. He put his cigarette out in the bushes and checked his phone, no messages but it was nine forty five.

He sighed, walking into his kitchen and making himself a microwave pizza. The microwave clock blinked a green nine fifty at him. His show would be on in ten minutes.

He sat on the couch with his pizza and clicked on the TV slowly flipping through channels. He found his channel and yawned, he hoped he would be able to stay awake this time. The clock flipped over to ten, he had already fallen asleep with his half eaten pizza on the tray table.


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Writing short stories and flash pieces.

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