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He sits in front of his television feeling cold and a little too naked. Too quiet. too numb. How long had he been there? The set blared, news useless woes and fears…. but nothing compares. He wasn’t watching. he wasn’t feeling. More or less stuck in a state of quiet shock, perpetual confusion and denial. And he would stay there for a couple more hours before he finally realized what had happened. He would shower again. Shave ,again. Be tempted by the blade. By four, he would lock the door of his apartment and fall back into bed. And wait. for a phone call? For a dream? Or To wake up? Already too Buried with fears that had become real. Buried alive. Wake up.
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