The Loser

Tom rolled out of bed, the un-cleaned sheets sticking to his greasy hair. 9:30, great, he needed to be into work by 9. Just great. His head throbbed like the beating of a frantic heart, thump, thump, thump. His mouth tasted bitter. What had he been doing last night? Everything was a fog. He glanced at the full body mirror on his closet door. What he saw disgusted him, A normal looking man who had splurged once too often. His dirty shirt, though a size too big, could not conceal the slight pot belly that was forming. Why had he gone out last night? The words of his attractive boss, Jill, swam into his murky head, “Tom, this behavior has to stop. If you’re late one more time, well… I just don’t know.” Should he even bother going into work? No. It was much too early. There was always tomorrow.