He's going to have to jump. Jump! Jump! Jump!

The ground races up to his sweaty face. He is still.

Then he moves, his senses rebooting. He looks about, but is unsure. He screws up his eyes in preparation of a second try.

Yep, its morning and the ground was his stained pillow. Sloshing water onto his tongue he slithers out of sleep and falls into day.

Still, he can't afford drugs so work will have to do. Not quite the same rush.

Breakfast currently occupies him. He has to stay occupied, his thoughts need control.

How could he have forgotten? He needs milk, and so does the cat.