"Can I dream of nothing?" he asks, heaving himself to his feet and although he feels a lot more sober than he had half an hour ago, he still wobbles a little before finding his balance. Then he nods at his bed in the corner of the large, open space, separated by nothing more than a decorative folding screen he forgets to use half the time. It usually doesn't matter, no one else is usually in his apartment.
no subject