Proza

Dee Snuts
PROFIL O autorze Poezja (1) Proza (3)


8 czerwca 2015

Peach Time

It was early in the morning and the man was hungry. He sat up in his bed, yawned and stretched, and put his feet into his slippers. The man stood up and walked into the bathroom, knowing that it would be another day of immense pain. His kidney stone hadn't left him yet. He had always wanted to get stoned, but not in this way. The man attempted to stand over the toilet to urinate but changed his mind after feeling pain, so the man sat down, pants around his ankles, head in his hands, a broken man. It had been almost five weeks since it started, the pain, the irritation, the blood. He was beginning to understand what his ex-wife went through every month.
   After twenty or so minutes the man gave up, exhausted. It was his one day off from work in over a month and he did not intend on wasting it. He pulled his pants up, flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and then went down the hall into the kitchen. The man pulled open his cabinets and perused through his foodstuff. Most of it were things that were either not suitable for breakfast, or foods his doctors told him to not eat. The man sighed before opening up a final cabinet. Inside there was a bag of peaches. Beautiful, succulent peaches. He pulled the bag out and set it on his kitchen table. He sat in one of the chairs, there were still two, and stared at it.
   One of the peaches looked particularly beautiful. It was full and round and the colors flowed evenly. He opened the bag and carefully removed this pure, untainted peach. The man stood up again and brought his breakfast to the sink. He could not put something dirty in his mouth, or if he were going to, he would at least try to clean it first. The man ran the peach under the water for a few seconds before becoming impatient. He wanted to eat it now. He had been waiting for so long to finally consume something so lovely, and nothing could stop him now. The man sat back down at the table and rolled the peach through his hands. He stroked the sides of it and squished it gently. The man raised the peach to his mouth and licked it. The skin tasted sweet, but he knew the insides could be sweeter. The man slowly opened his mouth and put the peach in, carefully biting the skin. Some juice began spilling out, but he caught most of it in his mouth. He knew he had made a good choice in his breakfast.
   The man bit more ravenous into his peach. He swallowed without much thought of chewing. He only thought about eating his breakfast peach. Suddenly he was left with a small chunk of peach with the stone inside. The man wondered why people didn't eat the stone as well. He decided that today would not be the day for trying, maybe perhaps he would ask around and see if anyone else knew why. For now he just wanted to see if the outside of it tasted peachy. The man licked the peach pit, perplexed by the texture of it. And yet...the man enjoyed it. He removed the pit and rolled it over in his mouth a bit. The man shuddered and spit it out. He had the rest of the peach to enjoy in addition to his entire bag. He curled his tongue around the final piece of peach and swallowed it loudly, licking his lips.
   The man reached into the bag and pulled out his second peach, doing the exact same procedure as the first one. Washing it, softly tasting it, devouring it without mercy. He went on and on through peach after peach. Finally he was at the end of his bag, the final peach. The man knew that this was going to be his final moment of deliciousness and wanted to savor it especially.
   He took the peach delicately out of the bag, examining every inch of it. Not a single bruise or discoloration. He had truly saved the best for last. The man knew he should get out of his chair to wash this peach, but it was too beautiful for him. He needed to devour it now. He needed to taste it and touch it and feel it. The man unbuttoned the his pajama shirt, throwing all caution to the wind and popped the entire peach in his mouth. He chewed and licked and swallowed, making sure to enjoy every moment he had this peach with him. He spit the pit into his hand, which was covered in juice, and sucked on the final remnants of peach in his mouth. It was delicious and he loved it. The man took a second to look at the pit in his hand. A final memory of his most glorious morning. He decided he would keep it in his room until another purpose for it could be used. The man loved peaches.
   He stood up, wiping his face on his arm. The man threw out the empty peach bag, which was now filled with pits. He slowly walked upstairs, sad and defeated. He walked into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. It was hard for the man to look at himself. He had enjoyed himself too much, it was shameful. The man sat on the toilet again, and while he felt awful on the inside, he was starting to feel less awful on the outside. His kidney stone was finally passing.
   The man started having flashbacks to when his daughter was born. Telling his now ex-wife to push and push and push. Only now he was telling himself to push. And instead of pushing out a new life brought into this world by a past love, he was pushing out some rock caused by too much tea and alcohol.
   He pushed and pushed, gripping the sides of his throne. It was the second most painful thing he ever had to do in his life. It felt like he was going to urinate, but must first destroy the Hoover Dam using only a waffle. Particularly impossible. The man began to cry, everything in life passes, so why can't this kidney stone go any faster? He cursed everything in his life. He did not deserve this. He was a good simple quiet man who loved reading the paper and eating peaches. And yet God was punishing him.
   After minutes that felt like hours that felt like years, the man fully passed his kidney stone, along with about half a cup of blood. He was exhausted as he cleaned himself up for the second time that day, washed his hands, and crawled back into bed, still thinking of his peaches. The man laid on his side until the pain went away, and when it finally did, he slept. But the man did not dream, like his life it was only an empty black void that he could not fill.
   When the man awoke, he no longer felt any pain towards anything. He looked at the ceiling of his bedroom and whispered to himself, "peachy."




Regulamin | Polityka prywatności | Kontakt

Copyright © 2010 truml.com, korzystanie z serwisu oznacza akceptację regulaminu.


kontakt z redakcją






Zgłoś nadużycie

W pierwszej kolejności proszę rozważyć możliwość zablokowania konkretnego użytkownika za pomocą ikony ,
szczególnie w przypadku subiektywnej oceny sytuacji. Blokada dotyczyć będzie jedynie komentarzy pod własnymi pracami.
Globalne zgłoszenie uwzględniane będzie jedynie w przypadku oczywistego naruszenia regulaminu lub prawa,
o czym będzie decydowała administracja, bez konieczności informowania o swojej decyzji.

Opcja dostępna tylko dla użytkowników zalogowanych. zarejestruj się

Ta strona używa plików cookie w celu usprawnienia i ułatwienia dostępu do serwisu oraz prowadzenia danych statystycznych. Dalsze korzystanie z tej witryny oznacza akceptację tego stanu rzeczy.    Polityka Prywatności   
ROZUMIEM
1