This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “the New Deal” cc&d (v257) (the September 2015 issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book from Smoke the cc&d July - Dec. 2015 collection book		get the 318 page July - Dec. 2015 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

The Nap

Liam Spencer

    I knew it was only six hours of work each day, but the shortness was required by medical restriction. It was my ankle. Every quickened step was pain. It was exhausting. It was yet another probationary period at work. This one was to make career employee. It counted the most, and I was especially under fire for my injuries. If I made it, the pay and benefits would set me up nicely for life.
    I was also back to being broke. Worker’s comp messed up, so my income was low. There was little to nothing I could do but try to get through the day.
    There was a friend of mine going through rough times. Her husband had left her after thirteen years. She was high and dry, and all alone. We’d talk for hours. It triggered my own memories, but I couldn’t bear to leave her so alone during such times.
    All in all, it made me very tired. I got home from another day of painful running and crawled onto the couch. Within minutes, I was out like a light.

    It was her. The Her. Of Poetry fame. She had stood me up to go to a party, saying we’d get together some other time. She, again, was having trouble deciding if she wanted to be in a relationship or shop around for other guys. We were getting distant again, it seemed.
    I decided to go to her store around closing to have a talk with her. I showed up to her surprise. We began talking about the issue. I began saying what it would mean if she started going for other guys. That we would have to break up and be totally apart. We couldn’t be a part of each others’ lives. We...we...we...
    I noticed my heart was pounding so heavily. KA BOOM KA BOOM. It flooded my hearing. It was pounding out of my chest. It seemed so damn wrong to be saying such things to her. It was horrifying. The heartbeating continued to escalate ever higher and higher.

    It began to wake me up. I slowly realized that Samantha was long, long gone. There was no confrontation. There was nothing left to lose. There was nothing left. There was nothing. Nothing.

    I got up and grabbed a beer, lit a smoke, and paced my kitchen. What the hell was that? It’s coming up on three years since we knew each other. Surely there was nothing left.
    Back and forth I went, wondering, disputing. I wondered why my heartbeat reacted so severely. Three fucking years and still? What brought this on? How? Why?

    I sat down in front of my laptop and went to Facebook to play my football games. Distraction can bury nearly everything. Gradually I forgot about the whole ordeal. I talked with people, sipped beer, and made dinner. The food put me to sleep pretty quickly.
    And there she was, smiling and laughing as we walked through Seattle Center at night, holding hands, making our way home to make love.

    The evil of the alarm clock took her away yet again. It was time for more hell to pay.

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