the surf

It was a cold night/morning for Bob McCartney who regularly worked the graveyard shift at the local security firm, checking his watch it showed that there were only two hours until the next security guard checked in and he would be able to go home for the night. Walking past a long pane of glass he checked out his reflection. Thirteen stone (most of it in the stomach) had crept up on him making him look like he had enjoyed too many sugary snacks on his lonely shift. he was about six foot in height with a bowl cut that suitibly showed off his brown hair, and the contrast of his blue eyes made him look like a sore thumb in any crowd. sighing he walked away to his desk waiting for the pleasure of walking another five miles before doing this again. "Routine, the killer of all passion" he remarked in his east london accent.

"Honey im home!" Bob shouted to his wife who was probably still in bed. he checked his watch. It showed 7:02 am. Shit! His wife Anna should be up and ready for work by now, but was still asleep. "ANNA" he shouted up the stairs "GET UP LAZY BONES!" A voice from behind made him jump
"I'm already up silly man" his wife Anna replied. Short and slim his wife Anna was the complete opposite of him. Whilst she regularly enjoyed going to the gym the only excersise he got was lifting the television control. While she coul very happily eat at least one salad a day he would mutter "rabbit food" and nip off to the local chippy for a kabab.

"Ok i'll let you off that one then" he said as he kissed his wife " so what time do you have to leave for work? i was thinking if we have the time............."
"No" his wife refused him flat " i have no time i repeat NO time for that i have to get this report in before eight o'clock"
"good luck the traffic is terrible on the M25 i saw as i was coming home"
"Shit guess i'll have to leave now then." and with that she gave him a longer kiss and slipped off into the early morning throng of commuters all trying to get to work on time.