His bladder felt swollen and distended. After taking care of business in the bathroom, he went out into the house, entering the kitchen to make some coffee, hoping it would help clear his mind a little. It seemed like things were too full in there. He half-wished he was a teen alcoholic or pothead so he could just pacify himself with his chosen addiction and crawl into his bed, riding the wave of some calming music streaming through his head. But, alas, he couldn’t. Sad, really, he couldn’t even cultivate some addiction to take himself away from his brain. As the coffee began brewing, he noticed the light on the answering machine flashing. He pressed the “PLAY MESSAGES” button, hoping it would be Elise, thinking it was possible she’d looked his name up in the phonebook. It wasn’t her. “Hey, Steven, it’s me, Connor, also known as ‘Dad.’” He grimaced at the machine, not knowing why he had become so angry at his father. “I just wanted to say I was sorry for yelling at you this morning.
