After a night of agonizing sleeplessness, the old man drags his lifeless stiffened corpse from a sunken bed of jagged obsidian, with pain radiating like a broken heater, as the classical music plays he managed to stumble off to prepare his coffee, his hands weak and shaking as he poured in the water, counted the scoops of grinds and fumbles with plugging in the percolator, as the coffee begins to perc, he shuffles off to the toilet where his bowels bellow out in empty hunger, gazing in the mirror a face worn out by time, with hair and beard disheveled from a night of tossing about, stumbling back to his bed, the old man struggles to pull on his socks and pants, he manages to pour a cup of coffee he carefully packs his pipe with scraps of tobacco, he pulls on his coat and opens the door, the mild damp air a false sense of warmth, the sun low in the morning sky, as the world begins to spin and come alive, not one living soul seems to care for the plight of life this old man endures each passing moment, as the birds begin to sing and the dogs bark, the old man slips back inside as to hide his pain away, but sad reality is, he simply can not escape this hellish day;
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