Solid

I pull off the comforter and step into my slippers. I shuffle across the room towards the dimly lit monitor, moving the chair silently out from the desk. As I flick around the net in the early morning twilight I find myself yawning back the dream of my Saturday night nap.
How odd it was to watch the world fall around me. It's shimmery state fragile like a mirror. Knowing my luck it's a bad omen.

  After the endless stream of the no news feed, I get up and zombie over to the closet. As I pass my own hanging mirror, I catch a glimpse of my earth red hair, its short messy state blending with my dull green eyes. I pull out my favourite "T" and shorts, black lick the rest, though set apart by a lizard, it's body made up of swirling red.

  The lights are still out as I prepare my breakfast. It reminds me of colder days, when I would wake up early for school, though that will remain a memory. This year I am free. Free to work a basic job to save up for college. Nineteen and nowhere to go. After all, who wants a mediocre artist who can hardly pass a course on his first language.

"Morning." I hear a groggy voice say behind me. "You're up early."

"Yeah I had a hard time falling asleep." I lied, my art had gotten the better of me, and now I was paying for it. Not that he needed to know that.

"You know we are going out for brunch with Grandma right?"

I reply by letting my face fall to the table with a solid thud.