He hears the sounds of fucking through the walls.
The lid was off the jar.
His lip bled into his cupped hand.
God I was tired yesterday and I'm tired again today. I briefly lost consciousness on the couch while watching college football - Syracuse and Iowa - and reading some article about Dick Cheney. It became increasingly difficult to focus on either the article or the game and then my mind became aswim in a menacing froth of whistles, huddles, arms negotiations and Condoleeza Rice.