You wake up. Its still dark. You remember the windows covered. You wonder what time it is. Your phone is off and in the car. You're warm. Too warm. You roll over and look through the crack between the door and its frame. You can see people moving around. They're in the kitchen. You smell breakfast. You lie on your back and stare at the ceiling. There's cobwebs all over it. You need to pee. Is it worth it? You think about last night. The things you said. You regret them. They'll remind you of them when you get up. You don't want to. You want to wriggle into your sleeping bag and never come back. You have to get up. There's things to do, people to see, food to eat, things to clean, clothes to pack and a home to go back to. You close your eyes. You wake up. It's light.