Home Straight

I have a tic striking my bottom-left eyelid like a giant trevally on 10lb line.

My skin is cracking and drying as it pulls away from my skull under the exsertion pressure of a barrage of caffeine.

A dirty great ulcer throbs on the inside of my lip where I prod it incessantly with my tongue.

My muscles are wasting away, fat rushes in to fill the void.

The hounds whine miserable and unwalked at the back door.

I snarl and curse back at them.

My son no longer acknowledges me and my wife shakes her head in disgust at piles of empty soft drink cans and chocolate wrappers which surround the living wreck I have become.

I have one more assignment to finish.