The Shape of Today

My alarm clock

I don't think I've mentioned my alarm clock yet.

It's someone who either lives on this highway or else makes it a part of his daily commute. And I commit the dreadful politically incorrect impiety of assuming his gender because his vehicle sounds like someone's hot rod. It might just be a dying or dead muffler, but either way we can hear that thing approaching a good ten seconds before it actually passes the house.

Which it does. Every weekday morning at 6 AM. Dad thinks he might have a job in a chickenhouse, but he could also be in one of the remaining factories in the area. Whatever it is, he clearly punches a clock and does so consistently, so he's got reliability going for him. Because of the situation here at home I'm usually awake by 6 anyway...it's gotten programmed into me. But if I'm snoozing longer than usual, I can rely on my alarm clock to go blatting past at sixish and rouse me. I choose to view this with amusement rather than exasperation, because it's a funny detail I might be able to use one day in a tale.