“rob awoke to the warm morning sun beating down on his back; sweat had begun to bead up on his face. kicking off the flannel comforter, he sat up and wiped the sweat off with the front of his t-shirt. he sat for a moment, allowing his mind to catch up with his body. his legsworked to stand him up, while his hands habitually search for the crinkled pack of cigarettes and brass miami zippo. having no success, his brain pitched in and moved him to his paper cluttered desk.
his body, not quite ready for the nicotine saturated smoke, flopped down into the desk chair. rob tapped the space bar on the keyboard and prompted the computer to retrieve any new email messages. there were none. next he reached for the phone, checked it’s display. the result was the same. “damn it,” rob said quietly in a raspy voice typically associated with his mornings.”
“upon a meeting”
a story in progress
by Josh Frost