justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Damn the man Stale air hung in the room, it's sole occupant lying motionless. As consciousness slowly and grudgingly returned to the boy, he became increasingly aware of an ominous tatoo growing ever louder. Footsteps. And they were getting closer. A man entered the room, silhouetted by the light light behind him, and stood above the boy, who ventured an attempt at speech. "I'm up," he muttered, as if immitating a foreign language, "I'm up." "No you aren't,"the large form before him responded, speaking in a tone that seemed far too cheery to be apropriate, "If you were up, I would have left you alone already. You're awake. Now get up." "You enjoy this, don't you?" "Yep." "You're a cruel, sadistic old man." "Get up. Go to school." "A facist, too." "Come now, my budding little capitalist, off into the world with you." "When I rule the world," the boy said, making a poorly timed and unenthusiastic attempt at a grandiose hand gesture, "I'm blowing up the sun. Boom. No more mornings." "Or anything else, for that matter. Either way, all tyrants need an education" "And a good night's sleep." "Yes, well... get up. Now." "Sleep now." "No! Get up!" And as the large man started walking towards the tired heap of flesh that was his son, the phone rang. The heap answered. "Hello?" "Hi. Nick? It's Amir." "Oh, hey. How's it hangin', good buddy?" "Same old. Just thought I'd let you know that gym's cancelled." "Cancelled?" The boy asked. "Cancelled?!" His father repeated. "Yep. Have a nice day." "You do the same. Thanks. Bye." And with that, the boy stuck his tongue out at his father, and collapsed back into a contented oblivion. Excelsior. 6:25 p.m. - 2003-02-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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