The soundtrack for that night was the slam of a car door, closely followed by ignition and the fading sounds of motion. After that, silence, broken only by the hum of a street lamp.
I felt every second of the next morning. The afternoon weighed so heavily on my shoulders that my manager sent me home early. The evening gave a moment's respite: a fleeting glimpse of the other side as the home team won. The night was spent watching the ceiling fan rotate, wondering I would do if it fell. Probably nothing. I felt so numb that the prospect of having an appliance fall on my manhood elicited nothing more than... well, nothing.
You can only ignore things for so long before you lose them forever.
Either that, or they blow up in your face.
That would've been preferable.
At least then I'd know where we stand.
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