Midnight Every Day

Nightly, he would walk home from work. John hoped and waited in his secret heart to see the sun break from the horizon to end his everynight.

It was almost as if the sun was hiding from him. He stopped along the sidewalk and turned to the eastern skies.

No sign of light, but shinning silver pinholes in the blanket of blackness.

Before continuing home, John lowered his eyes and sighed.

Home was dark and damp, filled with creepy-crawly black bugs. Their hundreds of legs crawled up the water stained walls--they'd tended the apartment before John had arrived. John tried to talk to his landlord about getting an exterminator in, but he brushed him off and mumbled something about how if John wanted an exterminator, he could hire one himself.

John dropped his keys in a bowl by the door and took off his work boots. He followed his stomach to the fridge and pulled out his dinner. Sad, lifeless thing lying there on his plate.

Disgusted with himself, like every night, popped his dinner in the microwave to nuke it.