It's morning. Just like it is for everyone else who made poor judgments last night. Not sure how I wound up here. There are three unwrapped condoms on the floor. The intriguing Canadian red-head at the party last night is still breathing peacefully next to me. She tells me I smell of sex as I put together breakfast sandwiches. I wonder how many other people relish those small moments, those tiny phrases that make life worth living.
She makes coffee and tells me I'm a cave man. I lie on the bed, watching the morning rays hit her palm plant, her dusty guitar, unmade clothing on the floor. It's not a bad start for 2018 - bring it on!