Headache Descriptive Writing

I walk down the beige carpeted stairs to the sounds of the cars driving passed, just over the speed limit. There’s a humming of BBC radio 2 in the background, it’s not coming from my room, or my destination (the kitchen) but it’s comforting all the same despite my headache. It i’m really focusing, i can hear the birds outside, chirping, but there are too many layers of brick, plaster, paint and double glazing for them to be heard properly, and soon the tap is running, then the kettle is building to its boil, the noises like rifles in my head, and shooting the bird’s off the fence outside.

I burn my finger, squishing the last life out of my tea bag, and i trudge back upstairs as music starts playing from the invisible radio.

I put my cup

It’s oddly sunny for this time of year. I should open the window and see if it’s a cold, crisp frosty sun, or if this is the first real warmth i’ll have felt in months. I should do that. Instead i look at the aeroplane cutting my window in half with it’s white tail trail. For some reason it makes me

I pick my second favorite mug and wonder if the shade of the walls in this room matches the carpet on the stairs. The kettle is overwhelmingly loud, building in stages, i open the top to see if it’s boiling- the impatient warmth hitting my face, like when you open the dishwasher, or put clothes from the radiator on after a shower.

The kettle is like an orgasm and i rest my cheek in the hand, that’s propped up from the elbow digging into the light wood countertops, I can see the stains of thousands of water levels on the small slit in the silver kettle as it starts to warm up. It builds slowly, to that feeling like the kick in the stomach and i lean in, feeling the sweaty warmth on my face, and it takes longer than i remember, building slowly to bubbles and i think- this is it- but it isn’t, i hold the handle, closing my eyes to a guess. This is it. But it isn’t- the deep sounds of bubbles against the walls of the metal, the heat spiralling in convectioning circles, my eyes focus on the glowing tip waiting for it to click and i can feel it coming in my hand, and it