Day 29

Prompt: Write about staying quiet when you feel like shouting.

 

I shut the door, letting my forehead fall against it with a resounding thud. That went well, I think to myself. I consider thunking my forehead against the door again but decide a drink might be a better cure.

The bar is a mess from last night: bottles out of order, stray bits of lemon peel, the cups all tucked away in the dishwasher. I sigh, pulling a glass from the cupboard and pouring a few fingers of scotch. I throw a spash of water in, taking the decanter with me as I flop onto the couch. No sooner do I get comfortable

No sooner do I get comfortable then my phone goes off. I glare at it from across the room, watching the purple light indicate I received a message. It dings again, then again, for a total of seventeen times. I narrowly avoid waking the neighbors, instead sighing for what feels like an hour. I ignore it for five minutes on principle, taking a long sip of scotch and perfecting the technique of narrowing my eyes into what I hope is an intimidating stare. I pull myself to my phone, using it as an excuse to get more water. The notification was for a text message, split into multiple messages by the curse of the iPhone to Android messaging system. I throw the phone back on the table in disgust, despising that I caved to the pressure of a blinking light.

It can wait til morning.

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