Gabriel Libman

Blackhole

I woke up alone, once again, and promptly felt my mouth dry. My head still weighed on me from last night, and the light invading my room through its cracked window only worsened the migraine that taunted my brain. While I slowly recovered my senses, I stood on the cold floor; then heading to the kitchen on an unsteady march filled with bumps on pommels and other stumbles.