Of the Tax…

Chapter 38: Of the Tax…

 

 

 

 

            Waking up, Trevor didn’t cope well with his environment. He pressed open the door and got up. Morning light shone through. He placed himself on the bed, arranged his pillows and flatulated. He relaxed his body. Ardor fell over him. Flustered and entrenched by his nakedness to the sunlight. He snatched up the covers and went under. Trevor felt boggy. He could feel dried sweat under his clothes and his head was pounding. Along with his heart. “Must’ve gotten bad sleep.” He thought. Laying his head down and going right back to it, the early afternoon hours gave way to late. Trevor woke himself abruptly and went to fix his hair. As he washed his face, he took a look at it. So aged. The mirror had fallen out some from the screwing and the hole tapped. Locked in the wood in the wall behind it. He picked up the mirror from the bottom for two seconds. It wasn’t weighty. Maybe eight pounds. Not like the one in his room, that was a nasty, etched wood and thirty-five pounds or more. He pushed it in as he raised it into the slot, holding the top of the mirror in place with his hand. The other arm keeping the weight of the mirror. When Trevor made his balance correctly, he got a large plastic bin and left it on its side under the mirror. It being the same width as the counter to the mirror’s height, letting it rest while he thought of how to refasten the hole. Not a moment to spare, either. No point in waiting for all of it to fall and the glass to smack the augmented sink knob that would shatter the entire thing. Trevor left the bathroom momentarily, thinking about whether the mirror would break into large portion or a lot of pieces. Which wouldn’t go well for clean-up. Then about it puncturing him or anyone. He picked up a pillow and sped to go leave the pillow on top of the bin. Doing so. Aligning his eyes with the placement of the top of the mirror. He didn’t know what to do now. The best way he could see was to get wood glue out from the storage closet. “Oh… huh?” he stared at the duo. Those screws had gone out of the holes placed in the wall again. “When did that happen?”

            He cringed somewhat when it slacked out of place after he mashed it in one more time. “Hmph.” He grunted, and walked out the back door by the gate. Prying the knob back on the door to the room cross the patio by his feet, stepping in slowly, but not all the way. There were many items in place. Enclosed as it was, he knew where the stuff he was looking for was. The shelf behind him held the special glue he needed. It sat on the second shelf from the last that had a basket full of industrial substances. The only instance he’d need to get anything from there. Walking back and shutting the door, too late to go back for a tool. The glass plate dangling off the wall ensured it had to be corrected. Trevor squeezed the bottle, the glue kneaded itself into the groove to the back of the original position it went as fitting as possible. For shellac on the first location. With clean up and some luck, it didn’t take too much effort to sling the mirror back. Trevor was expended from this just the same. He knew he’d woken not a couple hours ago and couldn’t rest right now. Not just yet. The daytime drifted like salt-water soaked bark somewhere on the Atlantic coastline. Trevor scoured for green around his house during these hours. He wanted to rid this feeling of dread he’d been having since the events of the previous night. No sooner he did this he got a text message from David. He hadn’t found any anyways and the forth to last date of June was fading away. He decided he’d go up and see what he had to say. He made off back to his room and sat there for a few, Maybe juggling the ideas of what to do, or contemplating putting more or different clothing on. He did end up throwing on a heavier t-shirt before he left, he put his wallet down and the car keys too. He didn’t want to bring them up to David’s with him for reasons unclear to him.