the world's gone flat and no one seems to have noticed.
He'd had the desk for nine years. In that time, he had never once put a glass on a coaster, and the wood grain was stained with water and condensation that had dripped down into puddles and pools on its surface. And on nights like tonight, he could look at the rings and spots and remember the blemishes that drink had left on his furniture and everything else.
He crumbled into bed, peeling starched sheets from a too-heavy comforter and sliding himself between. No matter what the weather outside, it always seemed too hot inside, and she'd always told him to never let the blanket go unused.