Feeling like Leonard Cohen

Date: 4/24/2016

This takes place in an amalgamation of my grandma's house and a UK pub. I need to get started on my writing, but there are several factors impeding my ability to do so: My mom is talking to me about her lack of history education. She wants to watch a documentary about World War II but there is no one else to watch it with. I tell her I need to start writing and walk towards the backyard. As I enter the living room, I notice my grandma in a patient's gown, sitting on the couch--which is unusual because she only sits in her armchair. She is staring blankly into the television, which is stuck on a film I watched previously and left on pause. My dad is in the kitchen, and he makes note of the paused film wondering what the heck it is. My gut tells me he wants to change it so he can watch sports. I ignore all of this and go into the backyard where a white desk sits upon the grass. I am about to type when I realize how thirsty I am. I retreat inside to fetch some water and a corpulent bar patron stops me. "YOU WANT WATER?" he asks loudly. He then proceeds to pour his glass of ice water onto my head. "YOU WANT MORE?" Another glass, this time filled with coke. "FEELS GOOD, HUH?" It does feel good, like strolling through sprinklers on a hot summer day. I tell him it does and he laughs in agreement, knowing full well I wasn't lying. I wake up with several papers in need of writing.