Kant roused in the middle of the day. He slumped upright, one foot still in dreamland, blinking blearily at the room.
The spot in the bed next to him was cold, the owner of the apartment nowhere in sight.
Kant rubbed his face, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It was the middle of the day. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up feeling rested.
A piece of paper was left by the clock.
It read: "Good morning! I had to leave for work, but you were sleeping so soundly that I didn't want to wake you. Breakfast's on the dining table! :)"
Kant pressed his knuckles to his lips. Memories of the last night resurfaced in vivid detail.
Everything from hiding behind the tree to drunkenly blurting out everything on his mind to Gabriel, to the moment on the bridge across the city canal, the way back, and...
Instead of cringing or regretting it, Kant was left with a tingly feeling. His heart beat almost painfully. What was this? Some early cardiac trouble?
