I sit idyllic by a babbling brook. A bridge in the distance. It is quite picturesque. Almost too picturesque... I look down at the bank, but instead of rocks it's piano keys. It's odd, but I don't quite recognize what's wrong. I slowly tilt my head as I analyze the black and white keys underneath my feet. "So close," I think... can't put my finger on it. Before I can put it together, a rod spontaneously appears in my hands and I have a fish on the line! In a split second, all of my attention is on the fish and I deftly work the fish towards the bank. I feel the fish start to rush to the surface and I prepare for a jump. In an instant, it goes from the middle of the day to twilight and I am surrounded by darkness. The line surges as a black mass erupts from the water and thrashes in the air. The fish is silhouetted by the moon, as if it were some movie, seemingly hovering defying gravity high in the night sky. It's magnificent. A rotund fish with the head of a unicorn. Wait... a union? Is that right?
I snap back to the real world as the clock-radio blasts my cochlea with the clatter of NPR. I have it set to the highest volume in order to prevent any sleep-throughs. I am trying to learn from my past mistakes. I immediately lunge over to the device and slam on the "sleep" button. I roll back on to my back and close my eyes. I do not want to get up. I am exhausted. I look over to my clock. I have to squint my eyes to make out the time. I already know what time it is, but I hope by some miracle it's not really. A few minutes drift past while I lie motionless and I think to myself. That was a weird dream.
I know, though, that I need to get up. I already set the alarm at the last possible moment to get to work on time, if everything goes perfect. It never goes perfect. I open my eyes and roll out of bed. I sit at the edge for a moment while I vigorously rub my eyes.
My clothes are strewn all over the floor of my room. Everything that I was wearing last night is lying in a path that leads from my door to my bed. By last night, I actually mean an hour and a half earlier. Buried underneath them are the attires of previous nights. I kick through mounts of old clothes and grab a pair of jeans. I raise them to my nostrils and take a whiff. Eh, not to bad I think. I haven't worn these in a while. They're probably clean by now.
I get up and walk over to my workdesk. That's where I keep my Quicker Picker-Upper. I once saw a gif that said, "i had two bowls for breakfast, one was cereal." I think of it and I chuckle as I pack a bowl. Not too big, I think. I don't like feeling ladu at work.
Boom. I drop the flame and take a spare. I'll come back for the other half before I leave. A quick shower and bowl of cereal, then I clean up the spare and I'm out the door. Google Now predicts I'm going to be 10 mins late. I'll have to drive extra fast.
Along the way, my rods click and clatter against one another. I was too lazy to bring them up last night and too late to bring them up this morning. It doesn't matter. They'll be fine at work. It saves me the hassle of bringing them back down for tonight. Tonight. Another night, another chance to chase the serpent. Hell yeah. The thought of being back out on the water gives me a surge of energy and I almost quiver with excitement. Just a few more hours, I think.
I get to the front door of my client's house and ring the doorbell, clipboard in hand. I pat around my breast pocket for a pen. Then my pants pockets. Damnit! No pen. There's a big wad of something inside my pocket. I reach in and grab a fistful. I look down at my hand while it slowly opens and I frown. Fuck, nothing but used up soft plastic fishing lures and the butt-end of smoked marijuana cigarettes. "Buddha-damn-it, just a bunch of fucking worms and roaches," I quietly cuss aloud. I pause for a moment, before I whisper it back to myself, "Just a bunch of fucking worms and roaches." Hah, that's fucking awesome, I think to myself. "Worms and roaches."
I hear the clatter of feet as someone approaches the door and I shove my hand back into my pocket. I greet my client and walk into the house. I turn around to close the door and in doing so, I catch a glimpse of my car and the rods within. Just a few hours. "Worms and roaches," I say under my breath as I close the door.
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