It's... ALIVE!

[sound of creaking]

It rises from the depths of a dishevled bed.

It groans. It moves. Joints pop. Bones creak.

It stretches, ever so slowly. It shambles forth and performs morning ablutions.

Darkness flees from the burning light of technology's children.

It dresses and shambles forth to prepare food. A glowing box babbles away with tidbits of information. The day will be overcast. The weather will cool. There is talk of fuel prices. Talk of closing stores.

It consumes mindlessly. The elixir is not yet ready. It listens, but does not fully comprehend.

The elixir is ready. Sweet, sweet elixir of life.

Poured into a black mug the size of a fist, the elixir sits like liquid darkness. Tendrils of steam flow up from its bubbling depths.

A sip. Hot. Blissful pain.

Another sip. The pain becomes more manageable as life returns. Neurons, unused for an eternity, begin to stir. Consciousness slowly seeps back.

Another sip.

This... "news"... begins to make a sort of sense. The remainder of the fuel is consumed. The "news" re-cycles. Controls are manipulated. A new device activates. Animation fills the glowing box.

A gulp.

A nagging sensation. Eyes wander to a small device with numbers on it.

The glowing box and associated devices are deactivated. The last of the elixir is drained.

Implements are cleaned. More ablutions.

Footwear is selected, followed by an outer garment. Keys are located. Belongings gathered.

A door opens and then is closed. A lock turns.

A vehicle awaits. Another button pressed. Noise. Hated chirping noise, but far better than the alternative.

Enter the vehicle. Preparation. Turn the key.

The vehicle moves in the darkness. As this happens, liquid darkness continues its work of reactivating neurons.

Consciousness is so close. So very close.

Oh crap. It's f***ing Monday.

Son of a...