Wadism And His Meal Deal...

The autumn sun broke through the window, a gentle haze settling on the bedroom. The rays were peaceful, almost at rest, as the room laid asleep for hours. It seemed unbreakable, or if it could be broken, only a psychopath would want to. The sun rays peaked through some maroon curtains materialised from only cotton, the elegancy was truly breath-taking. The peace was almost too perfect, like it had to end soon. And at 10:33 AM, the elegance was halted. A rustle from underneath some thick bed sheets, coated in an electric blue covering could suddenly be heard. A bearded figure emerged from underneath, his hair in a sort of mullet shape. A booming groan was emitted from this creature, confirming that the beautiful peace was long gone. After an almost sudden movement to get over the chunky bed sheets, the being tore his phone away from its charger where it had laid all night. He then sat, with his feet resting on the delicate carpet as he checked his social medias. He then gained the motivation to finally elevate himself off the bed, as he trudged his way to his on-suite bathroom. The switch hung on the wall, adjacent to the wooden door. A loud 'Click!' hung in the air as the man made his way to the sink. The white walls almost made the bathroom look like an insane asylum, but it also gave a weird sense of security to the man. He twisted the cold, metal tap to the right side as some ice-cold water shot out aggressively. He later emerged from the bathroom, his hair in a sensible fashion now as his minty breath stung his mouth. He popped on an ACDC t-shirt and some black jeans with a brown leather belt to hold them up. His black leather shoes gently reflecting the sunlight back into his glistening hazel eyes. His feet surrounded by cotton black socks slipped into the soul of the silky-smooth shoes. While a box of 'Krave' cereal rested on the countertop, the man favoured not to devour the chocolate-filled cereal on this September morning. The house keys hung above the dark cereal box next to another set of glistening keys, imprinted with the 'Vauxhall' logo. The man only opted to grab one set of keys, the plain silver one which jangled in his hand. He trudged over to the white door, the metal handle sticking out like a tumour. The key was wedged into the keyhole by the man, as he yanked the handle down towards the floor. He used his heavy body weight to let the fresh air in as the door was rotated backwards. The cold breeze caused multiple photo frames to ricket from side to side as the man exited his estate. The key was inserted once again into the hole made perfectly for it. The morning had come to an end, with the time being 12:02 PM as the man's journey began.

The breeze tickled the man's cheeks, as his beard swayed in the wind. It brushed against the outside of his throat, causing a scratch to be the man's natural reaction. His arms exhibited goosebumps, the bumps resembling a python's scales as he trotted down an almost mountainous hill he had to descend. While he opted to not wear an insulated jacket, preferably his brown coat which dangled down from his wardrobe door, his biggest regret was ignoring the delicious breakfast options he had, whether that be a toasted bagel smothered in butter, or the boxed cereal with a crunchy outside with melted chocolate filling the inside. He had already ventured halfway down the steep hill and either due to laziness or forgetfulness, the man decided to proceed to his destination. The man had messaged his friend after he had risen from his slumber, questioning him on whether he could join him in person for a gaming session on Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. His friend, Benjamin Anderson or 'Benje' had agreed after recently returning from a vacation with his dear parents. However, a detour would have to be made by the man as his stomach was screaming out for some nutritious food. All through his life, the man had a very repetitive lunch, mainly favouring al dente pasta in a rich mayonnaise with vegetables or sometimes meat or other protein-filled foods. If he wasn't devouring that, he would favour a 12-inch, meaty baguette filled with vegetables such as lettuce, tomatoes or spinach. As it was quite close to his location, the man decided to turn down a thin concrete road and venture towards a Tesco, sitting comfortably at the end of the road the man now found himself on. He advanced past his mother's friend Mrs Whitmore, as he didn't want to be delayed due to her babbling rants about marmalade or crosswords, the automatic doors of the Tesco were finally in his sight. Not even the bright red jacket worn by a brown-haired lady exiting the store could distract the man from the almost godly doors that would lead him to the promise land that held his lunch.