Word Count: 229
He was surprised to wake up to the sun shining because in his dreams he had willed it to burn itself out. After forty-eight hours of sleep he’d gotten used to the black and gray world. He liked it. Liked it a lot.
He tried to hide under the covers, crawling around from the head to the foot of the bed hoping to find the sleep that had somehow slipped out of his grasp along with the dark. Eventually he had to come out but he kept his eyes closed.
He was fine until after he’d showered and started to dress. He stubbed his toe on the dresser, dropped a drawer on his other foot, and lost his sense of direction and walked into a wall when he searched for the closet. His eyes were all squinted to slits as he grudgingly found his way to the kitchen and made coffee and toast.
But he wouldn’t read the papers he found on the table, just where he’d left them. He had hoped they’d burned up with the sun. But there they were, crisp and bright white and scattered, all seventeen pages large and legal, bearing the same official seals and initials of all parties concerned except him. He shut his eyes.
In the dark he found himself again that night. And that is where they found him too.
