Another Day.


He wakes up. What happened? He can’t remember. There is a bare bulb swinging from the ceiling. There are shadows everywhere. He has a sheet and there is a coffee stain on the wall or is it something else it looks like a coffee stain he doesn’t want to look to closely. He turns over and thinks about trying harder tomorrow. He goes to sleep.

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The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

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