‘The happiness of most people is not ruined by great catastrophes or fatal errors, but by the repetition of slowly destructive little things.’ – Ernest Dimnet



An oldie but a goodie; write about someone that is being forced to repeat something. It could be an hour, it could be a day or even a year of their life. Once they figure out why, let them free. Or, if you so choose, curse them forever.  You are god after all.


One thought on “Repetition

  1. I grab a beer and look down at my purple and pink owl slippers as I sheepishly drag my feet across the floor. I open a gate and sit down, spinning myself to face the northern wall. I reach out and grab a bottle opener in a green vase that once held flowers made of fruit for my wedding. After popping the top I take a sip, placing the beer to the left side and glance at my phone to see if any color blinking light is illuminating. Green for a social media, blue for a text or email, and red for a missed call. When I realize that no one has tried to contact me, I put on my headphones and let the dull white noise drain out my thoughts, or in most cases help calm my nerves. I never realized how the quietness can only add to the pain.

    I wiggle my mouse until the screen comes on and resume on the web browser that is set. I continue to watch whatever series I have seen fit to hide in. I watch for hours, only being interrupted when a sudden urge to relieve myself occurs or the bottle empties. I pause and rewind whenever a response is required to my blinking green or blue light. I never know if I am responding so quickly because I do not want to seem like I am not paying attention or if I am desperate for the attention. It is interesting how one cannot determine if their needs are self absorbed or not. But then again aren’t they all.
    I check the clock to rationalize whether or not to stay up or fall asleep. I convince myself to watch just one more because I am young and I need to enjoy the time I have to myself, but find that every time I reach the quarter mark I am pausing and taking myself to bed.

    flip the switch to turn on the hallway lights. I look into the room and tuck in and rearrange any children necessary. I lay in my bed unable to turn off my mind or the rapid eye flickers that occur when they are closed. I meditate to ease myself into REM. I awake and forgetting the day and find myself once again dragging my purple and pink owl slippers on the floor with a beer in hand. I sit and wonder, haven’t I already done this? Days pass by and the only thing that seems to remain true is the sound of those slippers against the hard wood floor as they lead to the inevitable. I am trapped in the same 4 hours of my life. And over and over again they repeat. What a curse.

    Weeks have passed and here I sit reaching for a bottle opener, resuming my web browser, frequently glancing at my phone for a different color light to break up my day. But nothing changes. Every day is exactly the same. My life is on repeat.

    Six weeks and nothing has changed. The white noise drowning the sounds of the world surrounding still remains.

    Eight weeks and I am still pausing the show a quarter of the way through taking myself to bed.

    Ten weeks and I find myself rearranging the children from sleeping in random corners and places on the floor to their beds, so that they will sleep comfortably.

    Twelve weeks and I am still glancing at my phone when sipping that first sip of beer but wait, today a red light blinks.

    How is this possible? How did I miss a call? Who calls? Every night the phone lays black only blinking the occasional green or blue and tonight it blinks red. Who has called? What has changed? I lift my phone and my heart skips a beat hoping that the one thing that could break up this horrible repeat is waiting on the other end. I look and the one voice that can free me from the trap I find myself in isn’t there. I place the phone down. I pick up my beer and I return to my browser, playing where ever I left of the night before. Everything on repeat. Everything waiting for the one voice that can free me.

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