Sharpie

Wake up to the warmth, coffee by my bedside but its cold because I made it before I went to bed. Sniffing sharpies has its downside, euphoria only lasts until I wake. Its the ring of my tomato timer, the buzz wearing off stirring me from sleep.
Grabbing hold of the sheets, prying myself upwards – snatching the usb stick and screwdriver from my bedside table, but my laptops broken. Sharpie on the keyboard spelling out characters long since worn away. Bitter coffee, screwdriver in hand, I remove the screws and look at the rust inside.

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