I love the taste of burnt popcorn in the

I love the taste of burnt popcorn in the morning.

and the taste of cold pizza and a warm coke. I stretched my arms and bumped my head on the bottom of the coffee table. My face was half-covered in Cheetos. It was some party.

. It was that picture posted on Facebook that my boss saw. She called me into her office for a dress down as soon as I arrived (hungover) for work the next morning. I burped

one of those surprise burps that gurgles up through your nose and tingles, hurts a little. I grimaced and hurled onto the lid of my boss's closed trash can. She rubbed my back and

I apologised, grabbing a dish cloth to wipe up the mess. 'How embarrassing,' I thought. I walked out of the room feeling sick, so I took the rest of the day off back home.

If I could call what I returned to home. In my time away, the dog had wreaked havoc. Furniture overturned and feces on the walls led to the back bedroom, where a primitive shrine

used to be erected had now a blank empty space. I was shocked to see that nothing was left. I turned to the dog to kick him out of the window. and out of my life

but the dog was nowhere to be seen. I looked for my gun but couldn't find it either. So i picked up a book on Quantum Theory and went outside and sat in the shade of a tree.

Time flies when you're having fun, and as I was learning how to normalise the wave function, the clouds were beginning to congregate over my head and a chill grew in the air.