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   ooooo   ooooo  .oooooo.  oooooooooooo       HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #595
   `888'   `888' d8P'  `Y8b `888'     `8
    888     888 888      888 888                     "Catatonia"
    888ooooo888 888      888 888oooo8
    888     888 888      888 888    "                by AnonGirl
    888     888 `88b    d88' 888       o               4/24/99
   o888o   o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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	Her eyes opened at eight thirty a.m.  They were dry and burning as 
 she checked her watch.  Eight thirty indeed.  She'd fallen asleep at seven
 a.m.  She was still wearing her khaki polo shirt, blue jeans and running 
 shoes from the night before.  The tweed upholstry of the couch felt like
 it was grating away at her neck and arms.  She could've used a pillow.
 She felt sleepy again.  She closed her eyes and heard someone walking
 around the apartment.  It was one of the two tennants, her friends, most
 likely.  She would pretend to be asleep, to avoid having to make small
 talk with whoever it was walking around.  She listened as he showered and
 made his lunch for work.  She heard him leave as she began to feel more
 awake.  How could she possibly feel awake?  She'd slept an hour and a half.
 She tried to force herself to sleep, but the scouring upholstry and awful
 Peach Schnapps taste in her mouth were hindering her progress.  She decided
 to try the futon in the next room.  Maybe it was easier to fall asleep on
 that than this diabolical couch.
	
        The sun blazed in on the futon.  The curtains couldn't block out the
 rays, which burned their presence onto her body.  Lying in the scorching 
 sunlight, she decided to hide underneath the covers.  This only baked her 
 more.  Unsuccessful at falling asleep, she picked up an old issue of
 'Details' and flipped through it.  She checked her watch after reading a
 few articles.  Eight forty-nine.  What seemed to be five hours was only
 nineteen minutes.  She fell back onto the bed too quickly, and the familiar
 feel of nausea sank in.  She knew she wasn't supposed to move around
 hastily like that.  She was to take slow, small actions.  After another
 five minutes of trying to sleep, she sat up slowly, upset at her failure.
 She sluggishly went into the kitchen and poured some water.  Perhaps it
 would help her sleep, and rid her mouth of the intoxicating taste.

        The cold water felt good, although it didn't help.  She still felt
 dazed and uneasy.  She returned to the inferno bed and tried to sleep.  The
 alley outside of the window was making matters worse.  The sound of the
 city was invading her ears.  She was ten stories up, but the noises
 appeared to be within three feet of the futon.  Every sound conceivable was
 heard:  footsteps of busy people walking through the alley, babies crying,
 cars honking, dogs barking, music playing, people yelling.  She hid her
 head under the pillow, but the noises didn't stop and the heat was
 unbearable.  She quickly removed the pillow from her head.  She laid there,
 staring at the off-white cieling, pondering whether she'd ever sleep again.
 She began to feel drowsy.  Her eyes were beginning to feel heavy, and that
 wonderful sensation of repose was slowly taking over, just as the telephone
 rang.  Her entire body jerked as the loud ringing sound blared in her ears.
 As soon as the ringing stopped, the jackhammer started, as if every other
 thinkable sound wasn't enough.  Each thrust felt like a mallet pounding on
 her skull at full force.  It was almost as  though it was operating in slow
 motion.  In the midst of all these noises, she could hear the first
 movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata playing somewhere.  She couldn't
 tell if it was real or in her head.

        She wouldn't sleep soon.  The futon itself felt as hard as a rock.
 She figured trying the second futon in the other room was her final hope.
 She gradually made it into the next bedroom, which was noticeably darker.
 Her nausea grew as she plunked onto the futon.  It was much more
 comfortable than the other.  Sleep was within reach.  She was still wide
 awake when the phone rang again.  She began blocking out all sound.  The
 jackhammer had finally ceased.  She was soon reminded of the small, gray
 kitten living in the apartment when it jumped on her face.  Instead of
 having some sort of reaction, she laid there, motionless.  She didn't have
 the energy to remove it.  She was catatonic.  The young cat jumped off of
 her face and began darting all over the bed.  She wanted to play with the
 cat, but refused, out of spite.  She wasn't going to let this creature
 interfere with her attempt at sleeping, no matter how lovable and charming
 it was.

        She checked her watch.  One p.m.  The noises were louder than ever.
 The kitten was becoming more rambunctious as the time passed.  The heat was
 intolerable.  She was far past the stage of delerium.  She laughed at the
 windows and talked to the walls, which would answer her on occasion.  The
 nausea she felt was overwhelming, but she managed not to throw up all
 morning.

        The phone rang again.  It rang endlessly, at least thirty times.
 She couldn't take much more, and slowly picked up the receiver. 

	"Hello?" she said in a lethargic tone.

        "Christ jesus, I've been trying to call you forever!  What the fuck?
 Don't you pick up the phone when it rings?"  the voice yelled.  She held
 the receiver away from her ear until the person stopped speaking.

	"Who is this?" she asked.

        "It's me, retard!" the person replied.  She soon recognized the
 voice of a friend.

        "I don't live here, Erica.  I don't answer phones in places where I
 don't live," she replied.

        "I let it ring a hundred times!  Anyway, I'm downstairs.  Come down,
 I'm here with Cameron.  We're waiting for you."  It was one forty-five.
 She couldn't comprehend what her friend was saying.

	"What?  Who?  What's going on?  Downstairs?" she said, confused.

        "Get off your fucking lazy ass and come downstairs.  We're waiting
 for you!"

	"Ergh.  I can't.  I'm so tired, Erica."  She slurred her words.

        "I don't give a shit.  We've been waiting here for ten minutes!
 Get up!"

        "Alright, I'll be down in ten minutes.  But don't fucking blame me
 if I fucking puke all over your fucking face," she said, angrily.

        "Whoa there, tiger.  Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed!
 Why are you so bitchy?"

        "I've forgotten how to sleep, and I feel like I'm going to die.
 And puke."

	"You're such an alcoholic.  Now get the fuck up!"

	"Fuck you.  I'll be down in ten."

	"Ciao-a-tutti!"

        "Die."  She hung up the phone.  She reluctantly got up, brushed her
 teeth and headed downstairs to meet her friends.  The Moonlight Sonata
 continued, but luckily it went unnoticed.

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 [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!  HOE #595 - WRITTEN BY: ANONGIRL - 4/24/99 ]