The lights were dim, and I feel sleepy.

All I could do was crack jokes and have my thoughts somewhere else. This is my half-happy state. There's somewhere else I want to be, but that 'where' place don't exist. So I might as well be here. In the dark. I'm not alone.

I utter a name inside my head.

Again and again. My stomach is churning from all the beer and from all the wickedness. There's somewhere else I ought to be, but that 'where' is not warm. It does not welcome me.

Did I die?

There's light behind the door with stained glasses.


Ugh. Now that gothness is out of the way. I'm here in the office typing away. Waiting for the damn FedEx agent to come by and pick up my stuff. What do I do?