Friday, February 2nd

It was noon the next day before Patrick climbed out of bed. Nightmares hovered as he poured a bowl of cinnamon toasties. The familiar sweet crunch brought a measure of comfort, and thoughts of Saturday morning cartoons replaced the bleeding girl in the basin and the rivers of yellow vomit.

Anthony exited the bathroom and flopped down next to him. "So where'd you go last night?"

"Eh, just some stuff with Mikey." Stuff that's probably gonna get ...