Brian leapt from his bed. 

Morning!

How he loved it. The best part of the day, filled with the potential for another set of wonderful experiences.

He reached for the two, small pills on his bedside table and took them with the tepid water he left out the night before.

Two steps to the sink. Don’t think bedsit. Think en-suite. He smiled at his reflection. “Our running joke, hmm, mirror?” He threw some water on his face and stared at his reflection.

His eyes locked his own, his face neutral. A drop of water formed at the tip of his nose. His jaw tightened. His fingers gripping the edge of the sink.

He had to wait until the drug kicked in.

This was the cross over. Now his emotions were laid bare, raw and jagged.

If anything were to bring Brian down, mornings were.

The droplet grew fat.

The medicated fog rolled back in, and he felt the weight lift from him. The water dripped from his nose.

Brian looked away from the mirror, taking a deep breath to center himself.

Surely it was going to be a beautiful day.

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