Addled Ashtray

                The ashtray his sister had brought him back from a trip to Destin was overflowing with half-smoked cigarettes and a sum of marijuana roaches.  The particular aroma around his work area was a little bit more than offensive.  Alcohol and body odor intensified this.  Personal hygiene had never been a strong suit of his, especially when his work consisted of nothing more than hacking away at useless prose and vegetating in front of the T.V.  But any activity with lengthy intervals between showers can cause any man to emit a strong odor.

                The beginning of the year had not been fair to him.  Not much of last year was fair either but he knew this year would be different.  It hadn’t yet and only he was to blame.  He had promised himself so much more this year.  2013 had literally been a bust and against all his better beliefs he made himself a half-assed promise on that New Year’s Day.  It wasn’t until eleven days later he finally faced down his cowardice and decided to punch a few keys.  To his surprise it came with little effort.  The next day was the same but after a swell of confidence he caved once again to the unlimited distractions that plagued his every day.

                Confusion set in as the Xanax began to take effect.  His fingers moved more slowly across the keyboard.  Many more typing errors now.  A lull came over him as he tried his best to fight it.  Nothing was working although he hadn’t tried anything.  Just a semi-feverish swirl of words that will mean nothing in the long run.  Just a bunch of gibberish.  Can’t go any further than that.  Plagiarism is a big fear of his.  Everything he has learned has been taught.  It must go this way for everyone else.  At least he believed it did.  He often plagued his brain with the thought that there was no more originality left in the world.  This always brought up the question of ‘why try?’  But then again he is fairly sure no one had ever written his story.