The Sweet Nightmare

2:33pm, Deacon is in his living room eating cereal and thinking. The phone rings, Deacon hears the sound, It's been a while since he's heard it's tone, and he's unsure how to react. He panics a bit and drops the cereal onto the floor. He enters the kitchen and stares down the phone, it still rings determined to get through. Deacon rights himself and prepares for disappointment, he reaches down and picks up the receiver, a sheepish Deacon inquires "Hello?" A kind voice on the other end responds, "is this Mr. Cassidy?" A telemarketer, Deacon thinks to himself; but still someone to talk to. "Yes" he replies with anticipating disappointment looming. "Hello, Mr. Cassidy this is John Douglas with Elm Street Shipping Supplies, we received your resume and we would like to have you come down for an interview, how does tomorrow at noon sound?" Deacon freezes, is this a joke? a ruse? He's suspicious but hopeful, "Sounds great" Mr. Douglas responds "Excellent we will see you tomorrow!" There's a click and the call goes dead, Deacon stands in his kitchen unsure of how to react. He stands there receiver in hand listening to the sound of dial tone play in his ear. He eventually returns the receiver to the stand, and walks into the bathroom. He takes a long hard look at himself, bloodshot eyes, yellowed teeth, mangy beard, and straw like hair. "I need to prepare" he utters. From his bathroom cabinet he produces a hair clippers and a razor, unsure of how to cut hair properly, he shaves his entire head. The floor is littered with brown and gray hair clippings, and a small dusting of dandruff. He then takes scissors to his beard, trims it down to a manageable length that he can get with his razor. The process is long and his shaking hand lends him with a few razor cuts, and some missed patches of scruff; but he's much cleaner. He enters the shower and turns on the water, it's cold of course; but it's what's needed. He washes away the remains of dandruff, blood, and the smell of rot, he feels alive again, powerful. He enters his kitchen and swings open the freezer door. Takes a long pause, and a deep breath, he then snatches the gin bottle from the freezer and pours it directly down the drain, as the contents pour out he places two fingers into it's stream pulls them back, licks them and takes a sniff. Deacon spits in the sink, runs the water from the faucet over his hands, and throws the bottle in the trash. Deacon returns to the mirror, looks at himself clean and proud. He's ready, this has been a long time coming, and he's ready, Deacon smiles... A car alarm goes off in the middle of the night, Deacon rolls to his back, feels his face, he's stung by his mangy beard, reaches up to feel his stiff straw hair, reaches down to find his bottle of gin... utters to himself, "What a sweet... nightmare."