7:57pm. I’m sitting on my bed with my rusty 1960’s fan blowing directly on me as the heat of the day finally dissipates. Maybe the heat was part of the reason I felt so uninspired today; it has a way of getting into my head and absorbing every thought like a fat hungry mutt eating every morsel until there’s nothing left.
Music is especially good when your brain is empty. The wavering sounds of Cyberlab are vibrating through the floorboards and the bed and me. When the music goes quiet I’m drawn back to the constant whirring of the fan. It looks just like the desk fans in Fallout 4. They must have set that game in the 60’s because they new the objects made back then were the only things that would actually survive a nuclear fallout. That was back when people actually made things to last, before capitalist corruption made cheap things that would break just so that you’d have to buy more. The fan beside me will probably be around for another 50 years. If you bought one at Walmart today it wouldn’t last 15.
Prompt: Write Here, Write Now