Last thing I remember it was somebody’s birthday.
I woke up at five AM to the sound of church bells somewhere close by, opened my eyes against the familiar pain and was unable to recognize a single thing about the living room in which I lay.
I heaved myself up off the couch, grateful that I hadn’t been sick on myself this time.
At least I was still in the city.
I checked my wallet. Payday fatness was down to seven dollars. Enough for coffee, anyway.
I’d need to get something in my stomach before I went looking for my truck.