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TWENTY-TWO

Klyde woke up early the next day. He basically passed out after his dinner last night so it’s a wonder, even to him, how early he woke up today, given that he was bone tired.

His body still felt heavy, his moves sluggish, but no matter how much he still wants to lay in his bed and maybe come to work later than usual, he can’t bring himself to sleep as his mind is already running from his thoughts again. Instead of drowning in them, he figured he should just get up and cook breakfast. Maybe he’ll have a proper meal of breakfast for once. So, that’s what he did.

He walked down the quiet apartment and made his way to the kitchen after freshening up, not even bothering to change out of his sleeping clothes. He got some bread he got from the grocery a while ago, it’s surprisingly still unopened. Actually, cut the surprisingly, he doesn’t really cook nor eat in the apartment that much. It shouldn’t be surprising. Why did he even go to the grocery in the first place then?