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As if the World Were Alive

As if the World Were Alive

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Published by Keith Clark
“Awakening happens subtly among the everyday processes of life.
When you find you don’t care any more, the ego is dying, and
the real you can resume its natural position”

“Awakening happens subtly among the everyday processes of life.
When you find you don’t care any more, the ego is dying, and
the real you can resume its natural position”

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Published by: Keith Clark on May 07, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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As If The World Were Alive
A Short Story By: Keith Clark
“To all the little things I’ve taken for granted” 
The alarm clock informed me that 5:30 was here. The mattress supported my body as itrolled over and snooze button embraced index finger.Monday morning. Where had thenight gone? It felt like I hadn’t slept a wink and could sleep another thousand years.The bathrobe caressed my shoulders as my feet took me through the bedroom and into the bath. The shower faucet was turned and the water temperature was adjusted. The largesquare tiles supported my weight as the water began washing my body.What a night! Talk about a rollercoaster ride: the heat of the party; music; Vickie’swarmness next to me as we talked and drank on the veranda.Shampoo and soap soothedand cleansed me. My mind kept grinding. Vickie had grown upset with something I’dsaid and left the party angry. Maybe she would phone today and apologize.The water randown my face as a soft towel wrapped itself around my shoulders drying my skin as itslide down my back. The radio blared the forecast and my toothbrush found its wayaround my gums.
“60% chance of rain this morning.” “That’s appropriate,” I muttered,looking in the mirror and pulling down the bags under my eyes.The carpet tickled my feet and carried me through the open closet. Forty suits hung in arow, but the navy blue one caught my eye. “I can’t remember when I wore that one last,”I thought. I reached for it and the silk lining slid down my hand.
Shoes were a moredifficult choice. Black would work, but I had twenty black dress shoes.One pair stoodout however.“They’re wide,” I thought “They’ll fit around my ingrown toenail. Yes quitecomfortable.”With tie under collar, and the razor finishing its shave,I was ready for mymorning slim fast and a busy day at the office. My busy mind would fit right in there.The garage door opened and the Mustang started on command. I lowered to a sitting position and the patent leather and seat-warmers embraced my behind. The wheels newrubber and Armor-All’ed tires spun down the drive, supporting the sleek white and graytechnological extravaganza. It stopped appropriately at the first intersection, then, theroad beckoned onward toward the city and the office.“What happened last night?” My co-worker questioned.I was being urged toward mycomfortable desk, coffee warming my hands.My mind split. He knew darn well what hadhappened, he’d been watching the whole thing. Jealous of Vickie, he’d always turned upat parties uninvited. “Nothing happened.” I said assuredly. “Where are the reports Iwanted first thing this morning?”The scene on my desk changed as it began to support paper, pens, laptops, and more coffee throughout the morning. My flashing computer screen assured my eyes that the financial future I was striving for wasn’t too far away.“Where are you going for lunch?” It was the healthy looking blond across the hall. I’dalways had my eye on her since she began working there three weeks ago and her wordswere like dew in the desert. “Wherever you are,” I said smoothly. Maybe this would helpme forget Vickie for awhile. Our feet carried us to the parking garage and the car locksopened for us. Lunch was served with a flare andthe salmon was every bit as exciting toour taste budsas the waiter had promised. My young companion was exciting too. Soon,2

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