I woke up and my head and hands were numb.

It was freezing, the heater didn’t work and I sat on the side of the bed with the duvet I never liked. There was no light in the room so I felt around, found my lighter and lit it. On the duvet was some blood and I knew I had been ill again or killed somebody. That was a sad thought.

My legs felt numb too and I wondered if I had a stroke in my sleep. This was unlikely. I felt thirsty and got up to put on the light. There was someone on the floor but I could hear them wheezing and snoring so I had not hurt them. It was a young man with curls falling over his face and I woke him roughly. He looked afraid so I stopped shaking and asked him about drink. His keys had been lost he said and I had let him stay.

This tired me, everything here seemed to be about keys. I went into the kitchen where there was whiskey. The young man followed, said he was cold and could he have some. I told him to fuck off and go back to sleep. There was no reason to be pleasant. He bored me and I hoped if I was rude enough he would kill me.

After waiting a few minutes and drinking, I missed him and went to the room. He was over at the window and said it was snowing. This bored me too and I told him so. He seemed happy about that and asked for a drink again. I held the bottle and poured some into his mouth. We were friends now and I really hoped he would die so I could carry him into the street and tell them all how close we had been.

We looked at the snow and sang a little song about snow, he was a better singer and I felt tired again.

The whiskey was good, I told him we would never be like this again and when he left I gave him the bloody duvet.