Notes on the Author

I wake up and decide that I am incredibly sick of this, already old, routine; every day, for the few hours previous, I'm anxious as hell, waking up to watch out the window and check that it's still dark; that it's not light enough out to suggest that I've overslept, or missed or forgotten to set my alarm- despite the fact that I know otherwise. I'm so anxious, that I half decide every time, to just jump out of bed, right then, and be done with the waiting for my caustic alarm, but every time, I'm still too tired. Instead, I wait, eyes half open or opening fully every couple of minutes and when the alarm comes, put it on to "snooze" for another ten minutes and wait, all stricken and anxious, again for my time to be eclipsed. Growing, all the while, even more sleepy and even more bitter. I roll over and check the clock, then roll over again to face and meet the body of my sleeping lover. Far away on sweeter shores. As always.
   I know I should get up, the way I always plan on doing every night, the night before, but never do. I decide to wait in bed and spend two minutes with an angel, who, beautiful body naked and legs wrapped around mine, wakes me and makes my mind wrestle and sends me, everyday, to work with a raging hard-on. I roll out of bed, all energy, but half somnambulant and throw on my uniform for the day, pack my bags and am already five minutes late- I only ever get to work on time; never early, all unwashed (and sometimes for a couple of days), with aching balls, superfluous with sperm, eyes red and burning to close, a hungry belly and no time to spare. Before I leave, I address the body and lips of my lover with a flurry of licks, bites and kisses and tell her I love her, waking her up just long enough to hear her say it back. I say my goodbye and stand there, absorbing her for the last time and resenting my fate that I should have to leave her like this when my only wish is to climb up aside her and sleep, sleep, sleep...