Inspired by Colter Wall’s Sleeping on the Backtop
I keep trying to change the channel; I keep trying to change the channel, but everything is static.
"Someone forgot to pay the cable bill?" I shout back to no one in particular. In fact, there's no one here at all. The bar cleared out in a hurry. Now it's just empty and cold. I can see my breath, and there is water dripping from the ceiling. It's dripping on my nose and cheeks and in my eyes.
"Hey, buddy. Hey. Come on, time to get up, man," I hear someone saying in the distance. I wonder what’s going on. Am I dreaming or something?