I woke up at a very decent hour after having slept through the night. Well? I thought I had, but the pillows were all over the floor and I couldn't quite seem to come to myself. A patch of throat was dry and I felt drugged. Sitting here now, I am really on the nod. I will go back to bed in mere moments. It is strange.
“I’ve become the most hideous thing,” he thought. He was sitting at the lunchtime bar as was his custom. The beautiful waitress who had welcomed him back so warmly when he sat outside with his friends on his birthday did not look his way. He watched a man a bit younger than himself walk by on the highway beyond the giant plate glass window carrying a handled bag as he hurried to the bus stop. He was as many a man of his age, not bad but carrying the extra weight of accumulated years around his waist.
"I could write a story," he thought. "He is some girl’s father whose friend says, 'Your dad’s hot!' The daughter laughs thinking it is a joke.And the plot thickens.”
That is how he felt now, sitting at the bar, the accumulated weight of the years gathered about his own waistline. He couldn’t believe he had let it happen, but during the pandemic—for an entire two years—he had stayed home alone watching tv and reading. And drinking, he guessed. Probably he had drunk too much. And now, venturing out into the post-pandemic world, he was hideous.