In Container by Joe Moler

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In Container

I woke up surrounded in darkness. "It can't be morning yet" I thought to my self, gave up the struggle to adjust my eyes to the blackness and dosed off once more.
I woke up again, after I don't know how many hours...rubbed my eyes..it was still pitch black in my room....did I in my drunken slumber miss a day again?...not like I had much to do anyway, but still....electricity costs money, it would have been nice to get some sunlight...
I reached for the light switch...it wasn't there...even worse, neither was the wall...I waived my hand is the dark but nothing familiar met my fingertips....ok,...stay calm...it cant be a coffin...way to comfortable and big for that...plus, I'm not that lucky...nor that drunk....
I reach into my warm pocket...feel around for the only thing I haven't pawned ... ahhh...the cool, smooth face of my zippo....click, click...let there be light....light and garbage??? Oh...how appropriate ... I smiled...a garbage container...
Well my friends...no matter how much I have tried, alcohol hasn't taken away all my powers of observation and deduction, and doesn't take a genus to asses ones situation while swimming amongst the shiny, slippery black plastic waves. Instead of tossing the trash, I took an olympic style dive and tossed myself into garbage last night...perhaps I knew exactly what I was doing, I thought and smiled....
Well, what's the point to thinking about who, how and why when I can light up a smoke and watch my troubles leave my lungs in form of sweet, pungent scent of stale tobacco...
I've had this habit since grade school, a couple of deep puffs to get the body going, working...perhaps even thinking...Like a steam locomotive. It also needs smoke to work.... today's trains are not so lucky...too dependable, gasoline, electricity..etc...ones they run out they are stuck...not the old stem locomotive...just jump out, pick up some wood, strike a match and TUUUUUUU-TUUUUUUUU...here we go...perfect, ideal, unstoppable, indestructible and smoking away...
I lean back and start to enjoy my smoke, I inhale deeper and hold it longer...as my tiny container slowly fills up with clouds of warm , comforting cigarette smoke I start realizing that it's not so bad here...perhaps jumping here last night and opening my eyes in pure darkness was a way for me to finally see...
I feel around, light of my zippo illuminating the inside the container...I feel like the great explorers entering the Pharaoh's pyramid for the first time...searching for treasure...
Huh, a coffee table... I open a drawer, , what luck, today's paper...I lean back on the garbage bag behind me, cigarette between my teeth , zippo in my hand, I smile and open the real estate section ...
Outside is cold...snowy, windy gray day...someone opens the container and an salami sandwich and almost full can of root beer almost hit me on the head....manna from heaven..Thank you I say, but my words are muffled by the covers slamming down above me...
It's actually pretty good in here...reasonably warm, got a table, a paper, breakfast...better than outside...imagine, I could be outside...rushing to work.