Creative Short

Alex had forearms like a professional bowler, but his superior antebrazos were unable to displace his chronic depression. He managed to compensate for the lack of sunlight in his basement apartment with KC and the Sunshine posters and magazine ads for Sunny-D. "Borrowed" wireless Internet from a neighboring unit provided hours of late night gaming and endless redeveloping of his My Space page for his remaining twenty eight online friends. His facial hair teetered between bushy and Brillo pad depending on whether or not the bathroom light bulb had been replaced; for an electrical short kept him a regular in the CVS household aisle. A corner closet contained hordes of garments obtained from countless high school thrifting trips and hand-me-downs from two older brothers with poor taste and a step sister with a fondness for red Chucks.

Alex never had much trouble getting out of bed in the morning for his computer was set to play random tracks off of the Blue album every day at 7:41 a.m. Weezer at dawn always seemed to cheer him up. He spent five days a week grinding it out at the local doormat manufacturer under the supervision of his uncle charlie for whom he wasn't very fond. A childhood of opulent expectations for an unlikely future had left an indestructible tumor of dismay aboard his cerebral path. It was no wonder his drink of choice was whiskey. He hated Tuesdays the most.

After watching the halfway season finale for the ABC television series Lost [which he had recorded on his laptop] Alex got to thinking... what the hell am I doing, seriously . Such minimal questioning resulted in a late night stroll. Once familiar places seemed to be growing increasingly distant. Alex's rhythmically brisk pace conveniently complemented the brisk atmosphere. His toes accepted the cold crisp air with each encouraging step. Unknown faces gleamed with familiarity. It began to drizzle. His once seemingly unfathered route found him afoot the home front of his now long lost love. He looked up, smirked, and proceeded back on his way. He forgot about it all for a moment. He forgot about he lousy job - his dilapidated shoes - his cheating ex girlfriend - his disheveled apartment. The weight of having let himself down for so many years eased ever so gently. Alex gazed over his shoulder into the window of a now closed storefront and caught a glimpse of himself through the half reflective glass that separated his tattered soul from a collection of some new fourth generation digital cameras, which were now 15% off. And as he stood there in an increasingly meditative gaze he saw past the shabby merchandise, beyond his older brothers Judas Priest shirt, and for the first time in as long as he could remember he saw a person worth being.