The Ignorance Of Morning Dew

Sunlight hurts the eyes. Especially if these particular eyes went to sleep when the light was already peeking through bedroom windows. The pain wasn’t because of a party last night. No sir, not at all. It was because it was the time of the month again. Yes, the time.

I had to do it again. Oh, sorry. I got to do it again. I even came prepared that night. Yesterday, I did what I never, ever do. I brought work home with me. On top of that, I tried to mentally strengthen myself in the bathroom. Don’t look at me like that; you know what I’m talking about. You close your eyes, you go and sit down on the cold tile floor like a chinese monk with back problems and you start humming like a vibrator. They do it on tv and it works there. Supposedly, there’s one condition. Inner peace can only be achieved when you look at your future in a positive way. Not gonna happen. My legs cramped even before my ass touched the ice-cold tile floor. I spent the next ten minutes crying.

My name’s Eugene. I’m an editor for, eh – a certain well-known ‘adult’ magazine. And yeah, I’m the dimwit who writes the articles. I don’t even get paid half as much as our photographers. At least I get my monthly pay transferred to my bank account. Can’t live on salary that’s ‘au naturel’. I wonder how photographers do it. Anyway, this was the first time in my career I took work home with me. Which, of course, is not without risk. I don’t worry much about Pewter, my son. He’s already ten years old and he still wears diapers. We quit teaching him how to sit on the potty when he turned nine.

Can’t keep at it forever, you know.

It’s Nadia. She’s being a total bitch once a month and when the moment has passed, she wants to… you know. Drat. I should be happy, but somehow it’s everything except happiness that comes with Nadia. It’s about sex. With her. Right after she accuses me of all the shit that happened to her in life. Makes you want to jump right on top of her. Uh-huh.
Same thing happened ten years ago. She wanted a kid. That’s when I did it. I went for it. With my eyes closed I thought of ‘happy times’, and nine months later she gave birth to a baboon we have come to call Pewter. I’ve regretted it ever since. Nobody’s perfect, I guess.

Well, there I was, sitting on the bathroom floor. Naked. In the end I actually did utilize the magazine I brought from the office. Against all odds, I succeeded in getting a woody. One glance out of the bathroom window made it clear that my achievement proved to be short-lived. The weather sucked. Thunder and rain. Fuckin’ rain. In order to keep my momentum, I hastily entered the bedroom where I encountered a purring Nadia rubbing the blankets between her thighs. Fantastic! Now I get to remember the experience for an entire fuckin’ week. I felt like a little kid standing on the highest diving board, knowing that when I would jump, I’d land on my back and the pain would last. Yet, I jumped.

…That acursed sunlight. Horrible.

Luckily, Nadia had already gotten up to make me breakfast. She does that once a month. I see it as her way of trying to comfort me. Well, I have to admit that a hard-boiled egg, some jam, bacon and toast did actually comfort me a little. I love the scent of it. My appetite only grew when she put the tray on the blankets next to me. “Here you go, sweetheart, it’s all yours”. I mumbled something like ‘thanks’ and didn’t waste any more time. It was delicious. Nadia went for the bedroom door and hissed something about ‘not dropping crums in bed’ before she left. She could have as well pointed a loaded shotgun at me. A sigh escaped my lungs. She’s ugly, bossy and she smells. Gee, god. I’m terribly sorry that I stopped going to church at the age of 12, but you don’t have to be that much of a dick. Another sigh. Too much trouble to make a hassle over it. As long as it’s once a month, I should be able to manage.

I took a sip of my coffee. Disgusting. She can’t even do this right. Subconsciously, I took the salt-cellar from the tray and poured quite some of its content into the black goo. After a big gulp, the problems of the day seemed to already fade away. The shivers ran over my spine when I took another sip. Pure rot-gut. Like drinking liquid turd. More salt. Another sip. Excellent. Suddenly, the alarmclock rang. I jumped up and saw the salt-cellar land on the floor. It’s an art to be able to look at something for three minutes without blinking. It’s about the only art I’m truly good at.

A sigh. I turned the alarm off, shook up my pillow and pulled the blankets over my head.

Another day tomorrow, another cup of coffee.