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.
The Sleepcoat League
Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado. View all posts by The Sleepcoat League