We all get wake up calls. But they fade like the worn, old alarm clocks that they are.
Brrrrrriiiiiinnnngggg
Tuesday mornings are as blue as the sky. The bitterly sweet coffee scent drifts through the busy air like a creamy brown ghost.

Last Tuesday I went to a theme park. In the coach, words and laughter swirled behind my music as pointlessly as a crap soundtrack.

Hours pass, minutes pass, seconds fly behind my eyes like thoughts. Then I’m in a ride queue. And it’s as loud as thunder. The rails quiver as the train flies. Loops and tracks as twisted as my life – twisted like a rainbow coil.

We all get in. Tense, nervous, but excited. We laughed at the theme park horror stories. Then we’re upsides down. The ride goes still like the wind.

We hang there. I laugh. As though it’s funny, like some sort of sick joke. It isn’t a joke. It’s as unfunny as a funeral. Mine?

I guess life is just one disappointment. A rollercoaster, I suppose. It goes real fast for most of us, and breaks down for more than a few.