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ConsumationI layed in bed, as the last tendrils of a stupor relinquish their grasp on my mind. The room was groggy and blurred, shifting with the light from the near noon sun. I arose slowly, leaned on my elbow for support. I scratched my chest lazily, and experienced the world through slits of vision. I lit a cigarette and took a long drag, my head pounded and my throat was course and dry. I looked over to the alarm clock on the nightstand beside me and read the time, "11:51." Sitting up, I assessed the room, lookied to see what damage I had done the night before stumbling into bed in the dark. The floor was littered with papers, scrawled upon them halConsumation by ~cthulhudreamt
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