It's past midnight, I've been sleeping on one of the spare bed within Bobbys. This gig provides for me, including leisure time.
I couldn't sleep one time, it was muddy due to another rejection of the prospect to my couch presentation.
Yeah, it's not that picture, the one with the cockroach stuck on a bed, that scene of metamorphosis.
No, it's of Bobby's collages. One of them looked different from my malfunctioning smartphone torch.
There's a face, a face. I can't remember it now.
