A Quick Narrative The midnight hour had quickly approached as he said his final goodnight to his lover. However, before the young gentleman could approach his final due to the world, and achieve rapid eye movement he must do one final thing. Feed. He closed the lid to his electronic talking device with a satisfying “thud”, and proceeded to rise from his “bed”, which was essentially a fancy way of saying: An air-mattress covered in various items of his life and various essentials that follow him around. His feet pressed against the tan carpet, he could feel almost feel every bit of dirt below him from various tenants being in his current temporary living space, his legs pressuring against this dirt, as with each step the young man could feel the weight of depression in the very room that he himself was dwelling. Step by step he made his way through “The Orphanage” waving to the other children who greeted him with dull eyes, so far gone in the hallowed out land of make-believe that one would called being stoned. These wrecks of human beings however didn’t phase him in the least, only haltered his way to the place he desired more than anything right now. The Kitchen. There stored was the many different flavours that he so desired. He hungered. He must feed… This hunger however, was only intensified after looking into the refrigerator the familar glow crept upon his face, however only to be met with a disappointing realization that in a apartment storing five other human beings, some-times food stocks would be caught in the fray… especially those food stocks that need to be preserved in a cooling area such as the refridgerator… His recently purchased butter, was now creeping on empty, his various cheeses spent, and left with only a very powdered hiccups, as well as his slices left with only two, or three. He had saw this coming though, and had only hoped that there would be some sort of larger food items left. Chicken? Check. Ramen? Check. Few eggs? Check. Excellent, dinner was on its way for preparation… But again, the orphanage itself had decided to deceive him once more, what could have ended the night on a nice dinner after talking to his finace’ turned into work once more… dishes… so many dishes… none of them his, few of them of us own personal collection that where supposed to be “OFF LIMITS” however, what is to stop those who don’t comprehend the rules of the world? Even the basic ones? So, thus began his journey to the center of the universe. Diving his hands into the center of the never ending storm of dishes covered in cheeses, egg scraplets, ketchup, grease… Oh how he loathed all these things, loathed even how people despite his protests would only be met up with despair by those who are plagued with such sin of sloth. This? This, would be one challenged he would have to face in anger and silence. Soap began to pile up in the sink as he worked his way through various dishes, none of them being created of his own will, only that of the five other members whom of which would claim “I didn’t do it. I wash my dishes.” Sheep will be sheep. Thus, he scrubbed hard into these pieces of glass, stainless steel, and plastic cups. The scent of grapefruit wafting off of the dishes almost became intoxicating as the only other scent aside from the mildew, was that of rotten food that had been sitting in the dishes for possibly days…weeks… months? It mattered not. It was the only thing standing between him and the slight possibility of eatting this evening, his stomach only growing more intense. Wishing to a non-existent diety, he had wished that each member whom contributed to his new chore would be smitten in some way or another, or atleast forced to listen to the protests that he had exclaimed. “YOU ARE LEAVING SOON REGARDLESS!!! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?!” he was met with, or even “I AM ON THE LEASE I KNOW BETTER!” even on some occasions. The general banter of those who do not realize that perhaps if things had been more fair, he would have tolerated the constant teeth grinding irritants that had forced his already receding hair-line to retreat even further back. Unfortunately, however all this wishing, praying, and hoping that some sort of mystical force would end his suffering, he was met with the sudden realization. The drying rag? It was… wet… very…wet. Interesting, it seems as thing his dish-doing was met with a sudden halt. Excellent. But what now? He wasn’t going to go to sleep just quite yet, he didn’t want to bother his fiancee as he really just cared to go to sleep, or even eat, as work did take its’ tole causing him to become rather lethargic himself. But, now this was possibly the cause of his constant insomnia, that inability to inebriate himself with food-stuffs, even “relax”. No, that would be to simple to just have an easy night that let him curl up into a ball, cry his eyes out… No, life wouldn’t work that way… never… Fucking assholes.