Pencil in Hand # 5

The oblivious waking.

Caught in between a kung-fu yawn and a metaphoric stretch, I awoke. My eyes, like rusted shutters, took a full minute and a half to fully open. Upon doing so, I noticed once again that I had fallen asleep fully dressed not on but besides my child size bed. This non-sense had to come to a stop. A grown man could not be expected to wake up every morning only to realize that he had never actually made it to his restful lodging the night before. To my surprise, there came a voice from outside my bedroom door. It, with impeccable resemblance to my dear old mother's voice, asked me how I wanted my eggs. I responded over easy only to stop myself mid "easy" to recall that I lived alone. Had I come home with someone last night? That possibility was impossible however, considering the fact that I hadn't left my apartment in over a week. Who was this stranger who with such kindness in their voice dared to ask me about eggs? I concluded that I must be dreaming, still. This was the only reasonable explanation. Or, perhaps my television set was still on and it just so happened that someone on TV had asked someone else on TV how they wanted their eggs and I had interrupted the Televised conversation only to believe that the question was somehow directed at me. Strange feelings of meta theatrics began to brood within my secluded sphere of uncompromising loneliness. Was I alone? I must be, my solitude like Batman's was chief to my existence. I closed my eyes.

"Well, are you getting up? You have a big day ahead of you, sweety! Come on now, come and get your eggs while their hot."

I ignored the voice. I kept my eyes closed as tight as virgin legs. My sanity depended on it. I had to be dreaming. The fan above my head continued to spin with restless persistence. I thought of turning it off but then I remembered. I, maybe, wasn't alone. A kind female sounding stranger had perhaps made their way into my cocoon with the intent to free me from its self-induced restraints. For a moment, everything went quiet.

"Well? Aren't we mister lazy pants this morning! Come on, enough goofing off."

"Lazy pants?" Who dared to judge me in my own house. I felt a resolute anger creeping into my frontal lobe. It was one thing to break and enter into my house and cook me breakfast but to tease me with innocent kindness was something else. An attack on my manhood. I for one was not ready to accept this female intrusion any longer. With one swift shift of my body, I rolled over and put my pillow over my head. Enough distractions already. This method was sure to prevent any further interruption from the gentle voice begging me to come out. It was 9:00 in the morning. An ungodly hour for anyone with a sense of nonconformist dignity to get up. I would not compromise. Ever since I was twenty, I had made a solid pact with myself and a friend of mine who soon afterwards rejected the agreement, to never leave the comfort of my bed, or in this case the floor besides my bed, for anything or anyone, expect to pee, before 10:30 am. I still had an hour and a half to go and this intruder, whomever she or he may be, would not make me break the waking pact. Soon enough, I told myself, this early morning intruder would get the point and leave me alone.

"Don't make me come in there and get you mister sleepy head."

Beads of sweat began to surface on my forehead. The fan, which still continued to rotate, appeared now to slow down and consequently not provide enough needed oxygen in my room. Everything went stale. I gripped the corners of my pillow, pulling at them with childish force, pleading with whatever god that could hear me to rid me of this incessant voice that had nested outside my bedroom door. I could and would not give up the fight. This after all was my battle, my home. A breach on Zeus' sacred code of Xenia was taking place and I could not for the life of me figure out who was in the wrong. Should I wake and receive this unwelcome hospitality in my own house or should I like Odysseus slaughter the intrusive presence. Finally, with a resilient tone I uttered my first words to the voice.

"Leave! Now! I mean it, get the fuck out of my house. You're seductive proclamations creep me out."

"Now, now. That's no way to speak to me. After all I am your-"

The voice stopped mid sentence before revealing its identity.

"My what?" I inquired with nonchalant curiosity. "My what,uh? Answer me stranger. Reveal yourself and I will spare you. Reveal yourself, I say."

A dreadful yet soothing silence echoed throughout my ears. It was gone or at least it was being suspiciously quiet. "Hello?" I shouted. No response. The voice had gone but its unwelcome presence lingered. I waited five minutes. It was now 9:37 am. I couldn't smell the eggs. My thoughts drifted and I followed them into my own subconscious.

I dreamt of a monster made out of scrambled eggs chasing me. I conquered him by eating him only to have his harpy sisters chase me. They were Over and Easy and they kept piercing their own yokes trying to spray me with it. I ran into a Mr. Toast and we defeated them. At 10:43 I awoke, smelling the faint aroma of bacon and eggs in the air. With a horsed voice I asked, "Is anyone here cooking me breakfast?"

"No."