~.~

Dawn breaks.

I drag myself out of bed with aching muscles and head for the bathroom. The mirror startles me – I have a head full of wiry hair, bags under bloodshot eyes and a dirty face. When did it ever come to this? I have a long day ahead yet here I stand, struggling to wake up after struggling to sleep last night. Ridiculous. If only he'd listened I'd have let him live; now he's dead – minced up, ready for composting. All that labour drained me completely.

Ah, well. Time to fudge some papers, find alibis. Coffee will help.

~.~