I pushed the door shut behind me. My apartment was a mess. There were white t-shirts left where they were dropped, like little dirty piles of snow. My couch was rotten and old and mustard colored and there were white bowls stacked on the coffee table left over from last night's breakfast. The early morning sun was burning through the thin green curtains so I tried to rub the headache from my temples as I stripped off my t-shirt, letting it drop on the chair by the door. The bedroom was cool and dark, and my limps were limp from stamping steel all night, so without even washing up, I slid myself into the sheets, and dreamed of clanging metal and flying sparks in the dark.
When I woke up, it was dark again. My red LED alarm clock buzzed and it was 9:00, so I rolled out of bed. No words in my mouth. But I look over to the top of my dresser, and I see the napkin with "Kayla Room 325 Holiday Inn" scrawled on it and sigh as I head into the kitchen for another bowl of cereal.