The Little Details

I woke up this morning on my fine Italian black leather couch to the news that a killer's loose in the neighborhood. I found this out on my plasma screen TV. I rolled lazily off my couch onto my hand-sewn Persian rug. The little details of my morning count.
I walked to the kitchen to grab myself a coffee and toast. Ordinary breakfast, right? Wrong. I had Kopi Luwak coffee with llama milk and custom apple sugar cubes, just the way coffee should be. The toast was buttered with yak butter and made from whole-grain gluten free bread. More little details that make my morning better.
I went to my laptop. Time for some graphic design. I took out my custom tablet engineered to make beautiful things, designed a few logos for a few companies and made probably thousands of dollars in the process, and sat back down on my couch to wrap myself in my goose down blanket. Beautiful little things, they are.
I got on my fine leather jacket and my hiking boots hand-made and imported from Russia. I slipped on a pair of gloves and pocketed my Swiss Army Knife. I headed out of my studio apartment to my Jaguar convertible and headed out. This big car was a little detail to help me feel better. 
I traveled downtown to a back alley. I made sure to park my Jag in a particularly safe parking garage and walked out. A common thug approached me. I ignored him. He told me to "give me all yo' money". I gave him something little. In fact, I jammed it straight into his throat. 
I took one last trip around downtown and entered the garage. A man was having trouble getting into his Cooper. I offered him a ride home, if it wasn't too much trouble. He graciously accepted. Doing one little thing for a stranger is a good thing to do. 
I rushed to his home so he could rest. He sure looked tired, with those baggy eyes of his. However, I must have blacked out or something, because other than that, I don't remember much. Some little detail happened that I don't quite remember. 
I do remember, though, waking up in the odd man's apartment. He was holding a knife up to my throat. He told me that "nothing could save you now" and that I was done. I tried to move, but my wrists were tied. That one little detail to make this man's day better ended up sealing my fate.
Category:Mental Illness
Category:Places