A little something

Figured I haven't posted any new writing lately, so here's a bit from the middle of the longer piece I am working on. It may not make much sense since you don't really know what it means to be plugged into a feed. If you read it all, though,it'd make more sense.

I wake to the sun fighting through the curtains and my head is a swirling fog. The light hits my face flush as soon as it gets above the buildings surrounding the south bay and the warmth coaxes me back to the land of the living. Once I am up I can hear the horns from the street and the Freedom Parade that’s going on fifteen stories below me.

I crack the window and lean my head out. There are three floats and a marching band down there now. I am sure that others have passed. A crowd lines the route five deep and they are all screaming and hollering. Many of them are waving green and yellow flags and others are blowing horns.

My arm still tingles. It will for at least another hour. I’d over done it, falling asleep with the feed still in me. A tingling arm was a side effect of that.

I get breakfast and shower and it’s not until then that I realize I’ve missed a phone call. The light on the front of my cell is blinking red. I have a voicemail.
It’s the chief. “Call me,” he says. “It’s urgent.”

The crowd is still on the street once I get showered and shaved. I fight my way through people who’d been celebrating for hours at this point. The smell of alcohol and herb is strong as I push my way through the partiers.

Chief is waiting for me at the corner. I am wearing a hooded sweatshirt and he puts a hand into the pocket on its front and fishes out my cell phone.

He rubs a finger across the screen and the phone comes to life. He dials a number and a phone in his pocket rings. He pulls it out and looks at the screen then holds my phone back up to my face.

“Nope,” he says. “It’s working.”