Chapter 3: Morning and Evening
I woke up in a bedroom: light blue walls, sheers over the two windows, a small writing desk with a wooden chair, a walnut dresser that matched the walnut floor, a reading chair, and a queen-size bed. Steve Walker prints on the walls. The room smelled of lavender incense. Sunshine poured through the narrow windows, layered the floor and the bottom of the bed.
I was naked on top of the navy comforter. My c**k was limp between my legs and smelled of dried semen. I couldn’t remember what had happened after my third scotch. I couldn’t remember.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Shane?”
It was the writer outside the bedroom door. “Here,” I said, quickly slipping under the comforter.
“May I come in?”
“Of course,” I replied, hoping I sounded cautious and vigilant.
“I’m nak
