Malcolm decided to get drunk as soon as his eyes opened at the crack of dawn. He had no idea why, and didn’t bother to allot brain space to ponder over the matter. There was a problem though. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to find a liquor store that early in the day. Looking at the clock which hung above his decrepit cupboard, he was stunned to see its hands, motionless at seven minutes past three. He remembered a horror movie about a spirit sent by Judas himself, at the unearthly hour of three in the morning. He shrugged the matter off. As far he was concerned, Judas couldn’t be a bad person, especially if He provoked desires of getting drunk.
He stared around the mild darkness for his phone, and unsuccessful in his lazy attempts, let himself off the bed towards the bathroom. Two cockroaches moved as if trying to make him change his mind, but were wise enough to scurry away, safely inside his slightly open cupboard.
Malcolm found his phone lying inside the washbasin, and tried to recollect the incidents that happened the previous night, this time determined to come up with a satisfactory attempt at a logical explanation. He couldn’t. He stayed alone. He had spent the last night with his girlfriend, watching her favourite movie with a huge box of Pizza. She had left before midnight, after using his phone to call her friend, who would leave a key for her hidden under their doormat. Soon after she had left, Malcolm had rung his dealer to come over with some fine herb, promising the man to treat him to dinner.
The man had rung his doorbell, and waited on his porch for a full five minutes, since Malcolm had been taking a massive shit. But, here was the thing, he hadn’t taken his phone with him, because he clearly remembered the low battery sign, and had plugged it on charging.
They had proceeded to have a good time. The herb was magical, so was the pizza, plus they had streamed a new crime thriller on Netflix till two in the morning. Malcolm had bid adieu to the dealer, and was getting ready to tuck himself in, when he remembered he hadn’t touched his phone for the past two hours. He thought no more about it, his mind too sluggish with contentedness from food and herb. He passed out in under a minute.
Malcolm stared at his phone lying in the washbasin in a new light. How had it moved? The charger was still dangling. The switch was on. Suddenly, the phone blinked slightly.
It warned low battery.
Malcolm stared at the clock.
Marijuana Maharaj 