Thomas'+fail


 * CHANGE IT **
 * 7:53 pm; the sun has finally retired. Tonight will be like every other, so one must maintain their comfort. Comfort is really just the feeling of covering a whole within one self, and my cover is a pool of alcohol. The cabinet is near famished, fortunately, a pint of //Tennessee’s Finest//, is smiling at me, so I mustn’t refuse. There is no need for dinner tonight, a movie shall suffice. I search for a decent Ben Stiller movie, and every time I find one that isn’t, I take a swig. A pint later, I find something.**


 * 10:12 pm; the night hasn’t even been conceived. Reality comes into view and pain envelopes me. I try to move but I’m pinned under my truck’s warped corpse; an awfully funny way to buy beer at the grocery store. The exhaustion and soiled inebriation play with my perception and I slip back into a slumber. I’m awakened later to a cacophonous orchestra of flashing lights and roaring engines. Officials and public safety grab at me, pulling the rag doll of a body into a stretcher. When the strength finally emerges, I glance at the modern art that was my truck and collapsed. The ambulance opened and I was dropped into its ivory stomach. As the engine hummed, I was cradled back to where reality fades away.**


 * I came to in a ward to the scruffy humor and quality of //I Love Lucy// re-runs. A cute nurse strolled in with a somber face staring down, but as she approached, she attempted to guise it. Between the dying buzz, exhaustion, and imposed codeine, I was near paralyzed externally, and numb internally. She approached with a false smile, and looked deep into my near comatose eyes. She delivered the news that my legs were now stubs, and that an officer would proceed when she left. By the time she finished that brief agony-glazed speech, tears flooded her eyes. If I could’ve moved, I would’ve kissed her, because then at least life would’ve ended pleasant. As she left weeping, I stared up as the freight train of emotion finally approached.**