The First of 160


||||||*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *Click*
||||||His eyes moved from staring at the blackness of his eyelids, to the blackness of his room. With a wince, his pupils’ contracted as he flicked the table light on.

||||||Glancing around the room, his eyes settled on a backpack resting on the floor. He shuffled out from beneath the comforting sheets of the bed, out onto the carpeted floor, and flexed toes on the carpeted floor’s protrusions.

||||||In an attempt to preserve body heat, he grabbed a rumpled but comfy shirt and shorts to cover up. Soon after, he lumbered to the bathroom, still attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. The nerves in the dermis of his feet send shocking pulses to his brain in reaction to the cool tile.

||||||Applying minty fresh toothpaste to a brush, his taste buds wailed in agony as the salve is applied along the teeth, but he knew the taste was better than bacteria. After he couldn’t stand it any more, he retracted the toothbrush and watched as the foam was caught the the stream of water from the faucet and whisked down the drain. He placed the polisher for his teeth in its stand, and rid his mouth of the cleanser.

||||||Shuffling down the creaky stairs and rounding the corner, he fell onto the toilet and felt relief as his bladder emptied. He turned on the sink but had to wait a minute for the warm water to push the cold water out of the pipes.

||||||After drying his hands, he turned his attention to breakfast. Easing the small skillet from among the rack on the ceiling, proud of the slight clunking, he placed it on the burner and ignited it.

||||||Turning to the fridge, he grabbed eggs and cheese to place on the counter. He focused on the grains and placed two slices of bread in the toaster for later. Grabbing a butter knife, he carved a sliver of butter and slid the knife across the edge of the pan. Sliding to the center of the skillet, the butter melted and the water began to evaporate. Sssss, pop, pop. As the water evaporated, boiling oil popped out of the pan and landed on his arm, causing momentary pain.

||||||Grabbing the first egg, he brought it down on the edge of the pan with a crack. Wedging his fingers past the choppy edges of the shell into the embryo, he pried it open and watched as the innards slid past his fingers, leaving even more goo, to land on the pan hissing.

||||||He reached for the second egg, and again slammed it on the side of the pan, this time putting one side of it in the first egg. This time, the innards spilled out, but not before taking a small piece of the shell along.

||||||Hurriedly, he pressed the lever of the compost with his toe, and deposited the shells inside. Opening his thumb and pointer finger, he reached into the pan to grab the shell shard. The lubricant of the albumin caused the fragment to continually slide from between his fingers. In a bout of frustration, he let his fingers linger on the pan for too long. Retracting his hand, he stared at his fingers. He had finally managed to acquire the chip, but it had cost him throbbing fingers. Turning on the cold water, he washed the slime from his hands and soothed the burn.

||||||Using his left knuckle, he turned on the toaster before grabbing a towel to dry his hands. He proceeded to pop the top off a container of spice, and scattered a fine layer on top of the eggs and grabbed cheese for later. Now, waiting for the eggs to cook, he grabbed bread, a cutting board, a bread knife, and sliced turkey. He placed the bread on the board, and slid the knife back and forth, until a chunk of bread remained. Then, he turned it on its side and cut it in half. Placing the cut bread aside for now, he turned his attention back to the eggs.

||||||Opening the top of the cheese bag, he distributed the contents on top of the eggs. Reaching into the cupboard, he retracted a plate and placed the toasted pieces of bread on it. Grabbing the basin holding the cooked eggs, he slid them onto the bread. As he slid into a chair at the table, he heard the patterning of footsteps approaching. His dad rounds the corner, and also sits at the table.
||||||“Mornin’,” he opens with,
||||||“Top of the mornin’,” he responds, egg smooshed against inner cheek
||||||“Govna’,” his dad replied.
||||||“How’d you sleep?” he asked, after swallowing
||||||“Like a baby, crying and shitting every 5 minutes. You?”
||||||“Fine,” he answers, returning to breakfast
||||||“Sleeping beauty still out cold?”
||||||“Believe so, haven’t seen hide nor tail yet.”
||||||“Well, I’ll go and check in on her, don’t want your ride for the first day of high school to be more cranky than need be.”

||||||After finishing his breakfast, he returned to lunch. Grabbing an aioli, he slathered it on both sides, then folded two slices of turkey on top, before closing both sides, and wrapping it in foil. Very good, he thought to himself. Grabbing a plastic bag, he placed the sandwich inside. Toating his makeshift lunch bag to his room, he unzipped his backpack and placed it inside.

||||||Facing the closet, he peeled his temporary morning garments from his body. Opening the top drawer, he plucked a pair of underwear, and slid it on. Moving to the next drawer, he decided on a striped shirt, and flung it on the bed. Fingers slid down the drawer to grasp the metal handle on the next drawer, from which he extracted a pair of shorts and pulled them up his legs. He grabbed deodorant off the shelf and winced as the cool balm touched each armpit. Reaching for the shirt, he pulled it over his head.

||||||Grabbing his backpack and a pair of socks, he headed downstairs to meet his sister.