Fiction: "Some Days" by Devin J. Meaney

Some Days
Fiction by Devin J. Meaney

Some days the weight of the world is absolutely crushing. I wake up, try to put my feet on the floor, and then I hobble downstairs for a smoothie and some toast. Some days are good, some days are ok, but others I fall into the abyss, sunlight destroyed; the rain from above not literal but visibly there. Some days I walk within a blackened haze, the lights flickering and weak and the sound of my own voice within my head as deafening as the silence that often surrounds me. Some days are good, some days are ok, but some days could definitely be better.

Then I open a new box of Nicorette and pour myself a coffee and realize I’m just a bi-polar man with multiple addictions. At that point the deafening silence is reduced to clarity, I put on my shoes to go for a walk; then I make the move from black to grey—I step into the light—and I thank the world for Nicorette and coffee.

Thank you, Nicorette and coffee,

Sincerely—a bi-polar man multiple addictions.