Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Novel-in-progress entry #1

The cat woke him up, clawing at the foot of the bed.

He groaned, picked up the cat, and walked down the hall towards the back door.

"Good morning, Cheeto," he said to the cat, scratching him between the shoulder blades before putting him on the patio and closing the door behind him.

He teetered back to his bed, pulling the still-warm covers up to his neck. He turned to make sure his alarm was still set. It was.

"Still an hour before I have to get up for work," he thought.

He checked his alarm every morning, and every morning it went off. But he had not gone to work now for 23 days.

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