William Clark snored in his bed. His alarm sounded. He pressed SNOOZE and then pulled the tattered Star Wars comforter over his head. Sleep did not return quickly enough, and William lay there, trying not to count his breaths, willing himself to relax, smelling his breath hot against against his face, trapped by the bedclothes.
Outside his window, the birds chirped. The sun glowed through the comforter, and he could see Han Solo’s silk-screened face leering at him in reverse. William held his breath as long as he could, and then he exhaled again. Oh, it smelled awful.
Why did he listen to Drew? Cheetos and Jack Daniels were a terrible idea.
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Well, this has been fun. I’ve learned an incredible amount, and exhausted myself. I’ve grown as a writer, and my time management skills have improved…a little bit. I’m actually a bit at sea as to what I’ll do with myself until next June.
Something will come along. It always does.