Frankie McCafferty
👤 SpeakerAppearances Over Time
Podcast Appearances
The little turquoise alarm clock goes off, as it does every morning of his get-out-of-bed, good, better, best, never-let-it-rest life.
A large, liver-spotted hand swats the alarm clock to the floor.
He groans, moans, grummox his legs out from beneath the covers and plants his feet on the floor.
His torso follows, sometime after.
He yawns.
A jaw-breaking, acrobatic yawn in three parts.
The first part, the opening.
The second part, the quivering.
The third... He draws his hand through what remains of his hair.
A few gingery grey tufts, each side of a smooth, eggish head.
His wife lies in the bed they have shared for 37 journeys around the sun.
Her family reared, her nest empty.
This morning, she curls beneath the sheets with the iPad, pretending to sleep.
Cortland stands up and takes a few stiff, barefoot steps towards the en suite.
He has the look of a man walking on hot coals.
Once inside, he relieves himself of his burdens.
A spluttery, ineffectual affair, some of which even makes it into the toilet.
He flushes, washes his hands.
Cortland regards himself in the mirror, feeling that somewhere between the previous night and this morning, and with no input from himself, he has become possessed of a malaise.
It feels like a day when he could have one of his turns and the thought concerns him.