An Introvert

It's morning. He woke up disgruntled after an eight hour sleep. The reality was before him. His mind was awake, his eyes wide open & dreams died a while ago. Sitting upclose near the bed, he listened to the chatter of the neighbors next door, the honking of vehicles downstreet & the wailing of a child somewhere. His system was taking time to do a reboot.

Some of the pigeons whom he had made friends, were sitting at the edge of the window & empathising with him. He has to get up and be ready for the day. A quote sticking in front of him at the wall says, "Life demands work. Life demands a fight. If you don't, you will be dragged down."

He has to go to the workplace and meet lifesized people. That's the deal. The cosiness of his secluded room space will be snatched away from him. 

The 24 hours in the day is not enough. It ends too early for him. There needs to be more. But then he is afraid that that would require more exposure, more fight, more interactions with the people & more work... So, he feels like a cog in a machine and the burden of the day was already aching his shoulders. Is it laziness, or a casual detachment, he couldn't know. He is perhaps just an introvert.
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