How To Drown Colin McKinin | ON HOLD

6. friends and family

You really want to listen to this song to have the full effect: Cold Cold Man by Saint Motel

W O N D E R

I exited from my bedroom and walked into down the narrow hallway to the kitchen, the morning sun shining into the apartment block.

I wasn't surprised to see the small note next to the empty plate, the smell of bacon flooding the house. Picking it up the between two fingers, I read the words which had been written with obvious haste; 'Sausages, bacon and eggs are in the pan. Love you, pup.'

Taking the note between forefinger and thumb, I walked towards the quite large, old turntable my father had cherished and kept.

Placing the note on the wooden bench, I pulled the draw open and flicked through the folders until I found the disk needed. Pulling down the pin down, tongue poking from my mouth as I tried to find the right position.

The music blasted from the speakers and with a lazily hand I turned the volume up, grabbing the white note from the bench.

So, the cycle began.

Hips swaying to the music, I grabbed the bread from its plastic bag and slid across the cold kitchen bench, aiming for the toaster as I flung the bread through the air.

It was going to be good day because the bread fell into its slot within the toaster. Flicking the timer down as I danced my way to the fridge, placing the note on inside the fridge door as my hand gripped the milk.

Sliding it across the counter and reaching inside the fridge once more to get a bowel of strawberries, gripping the note with a free finger.

The note sat on the counter as I flicked on the coffee machine and placed the still warm, bacon and two sausages onto my plate, scrambled eggs in a little bowl.

I spun with the plate of food as my hair twirled to the music. Opening the door, I placed my plate of food on the little table on the balcony.

Picking up his note and adding pouring the coffee into two different cups and adding milk to both to numb bitterness of the dark coffee.

I let myself dance through our little apartment walls as I walked with a cup in each hand, note tucked between my fingers and the walls of the cup.

I reached the stained white titles of balcony, placing down the hot cups of coffee, taking time to place the note next to plate.

My body falling into an unsteady white plastic chair, staring out at the other apartment balcony.

I sat in my PJ's, bright blue Cookie Monster pants and top, I sipped at the coffee looking at room 4 across the from me.

I smiled into my cup, "1-2-3."

The small, half blind lady opened her back door and did some sort of jiggle onto her balcony making me laugh into my drink as her frozen hips hopped along to the music. Her husband followed with two cups of tea, raising one to me as a cheer as his wife awkwardly and half painful danced her way into a chair.

I looked to the balcony on the far corner and waited for a second before the pizza deliver guy did some sort of rock entry from his home, playing an air guitar, oily, long, blonde hair flinging around widely.

I threw my head back an laughed.

A deep laugh mixed with my own making me open my once closed eyes and to look at the college student, Leo King. The shirtless figure leant on the rusty bars with a white charming smile, hair sticking up in extremely odd angles but I was used to it.