A tremendous pounding disturbs you from your slumber. For the love of Gaia. How much did you drink last night?
You piece the evening back together. A late day at work, a rainy commute, ramen for dinner, a plotless bodice-ripper for dessert. You were too long between the steamy parts when you fell asleep.
So, nothing. Not even the usual two-count of mint schnapps in your tea.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Oh. It's the front door.
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