Monday Morning

The alarm clock chirped.

A hand snaked and wove through the thick, tangled covers to swat at the snooze button again. The clock continued to beep, despite the finger pressed firmly on the button. The hand withdrew, wound back through the labyrinth of blankets as the clock rambled cheerily on. A moan came from within the comforter that moved tentatively with the first stirring of life. A groan quickly followed the moan, trailed by a muffled, "Oh, shit!" as the covers flew off the bed and she rolled out.

She stumbled on tip-toes across the cold linoleum, and paused on the safe island of the kitchen rug. One hand wiped sticky sleep from her eyes as the other switched on the coffee pot and turned on the television.

"It's forty-two degrees out this Monday morning..." the set blared at top volume.

"Oh!" she gasped and held her hand over her forehead. She turned it down to a tolerable level, then hurried across the kitchen floor back into the bedroom.

"More local news later. For now, let's join Jane Smith with the ABS Morning Show." A moment of silence followed as the station switched back to the network feed. She headed into the bathroom, robe and cigarettes in hand.

The shower's hiss drowned out Jane's chipper greeting and the nation's weather. Moist steam drifted from the bathroom as the shower door slid open. A hand groped for the towel.

Confident slippered feet walked fearlessly across the chilled kitchen floor as she reached to pour a cup of coffee. Light on the sugar, heavy with the no-fat powdered creamer. Stir.

"A closer look at what today's H.M.O. can do for you up nest. But first, our top stories." Jane turned in her seat with perfect synchronization to catch the more serious angle of a secondary camera.

She set the spoon aside and took a hesitant, temperature-testing sip. Too hot! She traded the cup for the pack of smokes. Her finger searched within the pack when none came out at her first shake. "Damn." She crumpled the empty pack and tossed it in the trash.

"Jury selection begins today in the case against Samuel Christensen. Christensen was arrested two months ago when federal officers caught him breaking into the LMR Quality Tobacco Plant in Knoxville, Tennessee...."

She walked back into the bedroom, frowning. Drawers yanked open. Coat pockets checked. Her frown creased deeper as she dug into the bottom of her purse. "Where the hell did I put them? I know I bought a pack yesterday." Then she smiled, and pulled them out.

"Officers confiscated large quantities of explosives from his person, as well as several empty vials of what sources say contained traces of cyanide. Upon searching Christensen's home and computer records, officials obtained detailed outlines of the planned bombing...."

She rapped the top of the pack on the counter several times, then ripped the cellophane and foil off one end.

"The defense attorney has contacted Dr. Simpkin, a well-known expert on grief-inspired psychosis. Christensen's mother passed away last year from emphysema and lung cancer. The defense is expected to plead not guilty due to mental defect with Dr. Simpkin's testimony...."

She pulled out a cigarette and took a healthy swig of coffee, watching the television intently.

The view then switched to the familiar background footage. A bald-shaven man shackled and hauled between two stoic-looking law enforcement officers in front of the obligatory anonymous courthouse. "Hey," the shackled man laughed hoarsely, "those damn things'll kill ya sooner or later, anyway. What's the difference?"

She shook her head and looked away to light her cigarette. A deep, holding drag. Her eyes bulged out. A strange taste in her mouth. The cigarette dropped to the kitchen rug as she grabbed at her constricted throat. She couldn't breathe! Her fingers grabbed at the edge of the counter, knuckles white. Frantic hands scrambled to grasp anything. Something. The coffee cup shattered on the linoleum next to her.

"In other news," Jane turned in her seat again, to face the first camera head on, "the rash of deadly house fires continues unabated across the nation...."

- The End -