| Brain Fuzz |
[Feb. 24th, 2020|01:29 am]
rejectomorph
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Back around seven o'clock Sunday evening it would have been best had I eaten something rather than taken a nap. Somehow the nap extended itself until half past eleven, and it took me half an hour after that to come out of the sleep stupor. A bit of fresh air helped. It isn't especially cold out tonight, though it is certainly chilly enough that I have to wear a jacket over the hoodie when I go outside. The air does not smell familiar, but I can't identify anything strange in it. It's just an alien air with nothing, either good or bad, to distinguish it.
I feel vaguely hungry, but there's nothing in particular I want to eat. I don't feel like cooking anything anyway. There isn't even anything I want to drink. Very few cars are passing along the freeway this late, and the loudest sound I've heard in the last hour was the train going by on the other side of town. I sit here imagining the empty streets all about, the darkened windows of the buildings, the streetlights revealing only inanimate objects. Not a single window is lighted in the apartment building at the end of my block. The whole town might have died, and I'm too fuzz-brained to write its epitaph.
Oh, wait. There's a car with a loud engine, moving fast. It's making that bend along East Avenue, now passing the intersection north of here, then continuing east, out of earshot. So technically I'm not alone. The Safeway near downtown is supposed to be open 24 hours. Perhaps there is someone there, stocking shelves, selling things to drunks and insomniacs. There ought to be people in the bars, too, since they don't close until two o'clock. Oddly, I can't find a single streaming webcam operating anywhere in Chico. Whatever became of webcams? I can imagine people out there, but I have no proof.
Another hour has passed. Maybe I could make some ramen now. And then go back to sleep. I certainly hope I can go back to sleep. I wouldn't want to be awake all night in such a dull place. |
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