On A Friday Morning
No alarm clock woke him. That, Paulie imagined, was still somewhere out his window in that empty lot between here and the park.
But strangely, neither of his other usual alarms woke him.
Paulie did not feel rushed to immediately run into the bathroom and evacuate his bowels and bladder, nor did he feel like he was starving or deathly dehydrated as he usually did in the morning.
This concerned him, only in that at this foggy moment of early morning cognizance, he realized he didn’t eat anything yesterday. And hell, how long had he slept? By the time he got back from Central City it was only three o’clock. Four o’clock tops.
Paulie got up from the couch, leaving behind a very detailed imprint of his legs and bum. Had he moved at all since he touched Parlay? He felt a
