Day and night

funny short story: day and night

It was day.

Dion’s eyes opened, and the world came into existence through a fading flash of white light. He stared at the wall trying to count how many bottles of beer he drank last night. After taking them down and passing them around, something didn’t add up.

The night was debauchery, but Dion didn’t feel anything.

Dion had become accustomed to a breakfast complete with dry mouth, full bladder, throbbing headache, enflamed stomach, and, eventually, a side of toast for the ride to work. But this day felt different.

Pleasantly surprised, Dion decided to lift himself out of his bed.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His arms and legs laid still under the down blanket. His eyes could move, but the rest of his body was out cold.

Could my mind be sober while my body is still black-out drunk? Is that a thing?

In panic, his eyes paced back and forth across his bedroom. There wasn’t much to see, being unable to look further than what his head’s current position allowed. However, the VCR across the room informed Dion that he was late for work, like lose-your-job-because-it’s-3:30 PM late. It wasn't long before he feared his death, wondering if his soul was waiting in a carcass to be taken to judgement.

Ok. Calm down. I can’t be dead. I think; therefore, I am.

I think.

Pushing his eyes as low as they would go, seeing through fuzzy, slightly-pink mounds that outlined his nose and cheeks, he saw his chest moving slowly up and down.

Good. I’m breathing. I have to be alive.

Dion calmed himself down, but a million unanswered questions remained.

Am I going to lose my job?
Am I paralyzed?
Why do I still have a VCR?

His mind still trying to cope with the day's new reality, his body sat up and pulled his blankets off of him, completely without permission. He watched himself open the dormer window across from his bed, and begin to crawl himself onto the top of the roof.

Oh God. I’m sorry for all the dirty websites! If I knew they bothered you so much, I wouldn’t have watched the one with the flying nuns!

As soon as his body crawled to the top of the roof, he stood erect, feet see-sawing on the top corner. His hands reached into his jeans pocket to pull out a note. Dion knew this, because his head was forced downward toward the paper.

Hey roomie, it’s about time we had a little talk about our living situation.

Every night, you stuff our face with shots and spicy chicken wings until 3 AM; and every morning, I have to figure out a way to pull your shit together. I wake up, go to work, pay the bills, and then you completely trash the place.

Let’s just call this your first and final notice. Trust me, you’ll rue the day you hear from me again.

P.S., This is where I found you last night. Asleep. On the roof. Clean up your act, and we’ll call it even.

After reading the note, sensation flushed through Dion’s body. A headache bounced around his temple, his stomach raged uncontrollably, his bladder…gave up.  Slowly crawling himself back through the window, he decided that 5 PM was a perfect time to call it a night.

This story was written by David Gregory, creator of this website. Comment with your thoughts below!
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