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The Problem

Flash Fiction

By Mark Reece HealeyPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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I stayed awake last night, unable to sleep, my mind plagued with obsessive thoughts. I was

drowning deep inside, not able to calm down, my brain waiting to explode into a million pieces.

I had a problem that I couldn't easily solve as I got out of bed, pacing the room, the carpet under

me, slowly detiorating. I was becoming agitated, my focus alternating from one thought to another and

yet, I was stressing over something that I needed to solve before morning.

I asked myself over and over; what could I do? Can I go back to sleep with the assurance that my

problem could be solved the following morning, reducing my stress level? I couldn't help my self - I

stayed up all night long, grabbed a glass of water hoping that my nerves would finally settle.

I walked to my closet. I stared at it for what seemed like an eternity; it was also staring back at me

like some sort of enemy ready to tackle me with brutal force. I turned away for a second before I

summoned the courage to open it....

....and I finally did!

Should I wear a blue or white dress shirt to work??

surreal poetry
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