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by bri426
Rated: E · Fiction · Emotional · #2157224
The Writers Cramp entry
The incessant blaring of the alarm clock woke me up.

I squinted through still puffy eyes at the flashing red numbers, and didn't even attempt to squash the violent flash of anger at myself for forgetting to turn it off. There was no reason to get up today.

I slammed the top of it before flopping over and burrowing deeper under my covers. Crying myself to sleep last night left me exhausted and hollow, the dried salt rimming my eyes making them sting and the skin around them sensitive. All I wanted was darkness and quiet, and to not keep rerunning the events of yesterday over and over in my mind. I'd never been fired in my life, and to be accused of theft in spite of all my attempts to do the right thing, the injustice of it all was overwhelming. I burrowed my head in my pillow as a fresh wave of tears threatened.

Never mind that I hated the job and that I'd been looking for reasons to leave forever. Being fired stung and what it would mean for my finances was something I wasn't quite ready to contemplate.

The dark of my covers was comforting, but hot, the feeble breeze blowing from my ceiling fan was no match for the June heat. I flipped onto my back, kicked off my blanket, and stared up at the bright inside of my cream colored top sheet. Through the close weave I could just make out the outline of light fixture directly above my bed and of the fan blades as they lazily circled. I could hear birds chirping merrily outside of my window and the sound of a lawn mower starting up somewhere down the block.

The smell of sun and cut grass drifted through the window screen. I frowned. I wanted thunder, lightening, and rain. The warm cheerful atmosphere was making it hard to hold onto the anger and hurt that I had planned to nurture all day. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to recall the angst that had taken me through the night. The bed was soft at my back and the tinkle of some child's laughter drifted in from outside. I fisted my hands and squeezed my eyes tighter. I was fired. FIRED. Unjustly! The lawn mower droned on monotonously. A bee buzzed happily somewhere nearby. I popped open an eye, was that an ice cream truck?

I sighed, opened my eyes, unclenched my fists and drew the covers from over my face. A My stomach growled and I sat up. I guess I was going to be okay.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2157224-The-Writers-Cramp-Entry