Attack on Treverton

Attack On Treverton (PMv)

He felt a little different that

morning,

shittier than usual but with

that anti-depressant induced

overtone that reaches beyond

malaise and into actual nausea.

He walked to work in a very

light rain, not enough to worry

about.

Mail was light that day but there

were a lot of flyers,

he reached down to lift a tub

of paper

and he felt uncomfortable in

the shoulders.

He wrote it off as muscle

pain and continued his daily

routine.

He stopped at the drug store and

bought a green tea ginger ale

hoping to put out the small fire

that was ignited in his chest.

It didn't work.

He concentrated making it from one

house to the next,

he moved slowly, there was no

pain, but it became more

difficult as he moved.

When he finished the street he

was done.

He decided to go home and go to

bed.

On his way back to the station

he stopped to smoke a

cigarette but somehow he didn't

enjoy it.

The boss dropped him off at the

emergency department,

with a taxi chit,

and sore shoulders.

He calmly entered, hoping he

would be heading home

far sooner than later.

Three hours after entering he was

whisked to another hospital

siren blaring,

they put two stents in his heart

that day and told him he was very

lucky he didn't go home

and go to bed

as he had planned.

MCC