8:00 AM

The comforting heat rises from the mattress pad that’s turned up a just bit too high, as a blended tonality of rhythmic breathing emanate from the tiny dog on my legs and the large dog at my side, keeping pace with mine. This day has started like any day ever wished for by the likes of me, waking up when my body decided it was time to wake up. No unsettling jolt of an alarm followed by a curse as my list of obligations for the day funnel through my mind…that ever present list of things to do still exists, but no single item held enough immediacy to impel me to set my alarm. Nothing is time sensitive this morning…except my car.

My mechanics sold out performances have me waiting until Thursday to pursue a solution to my auto woes. Left to myself to investigate the artless cadence coming from under the hood of my car until that time, I find there is no predictable rhythm, no soothing hum that would give a person the peace of mind that goes with knowing you are listening to a well oiled machine, although my oil level is good. What I hear is a fusion of pathos: the indecipherable moaning of the tormented ghost of Christmas past dragging his clanking chains, as the pulse of tin cans tied to the car bumper of a wide eyed just married couple who have yet to know true disappointment.

Hoping my car would heal itself, that one perfect hit of a perfect pothole would loosen the grip of whatever it is that’s strung too tight, and the rise and fall of the tires in and out of the crumbling roads would swallow up the unpleasant modulation. It didn’t. The trills have gotten louder, and more unpleasant, heavy metallic screeching, possibly breaks…steering, or some other inconsequential element. 

Keeping my fingers crossed and hoping to get to and from all I have scheduled this week without a AAA rescue, life goes on. I woke up, and the big question is: how late does a person sleep who has been wishing for the opportunity to do so until her body, and not an alarm wakes her up? Eight AM. Not late enough to inspire art. Does it get any better than this day off with a loud messed up car? Apparently not for me.


The Daily Post, February 6, 2016, Daily Prompt: Critical Eye~ Write about the subject you usually blog about as if you were a music critic.<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/critical-eye/”>Critical Eye</a>

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