Everyday Yeah one-thousand two-hundred and twenty-seven

The warm sleep tasted quite good. I poked my feet out the end of the blankets and felt the previous night’s snowfall melt between my toes. I heard eggs frying, but pulled the blankets over my head. The patterns of the sheets were quite complicated. It took me hours to figure them out. By noon the eggs were burnt and cold. The warm sleep had gotten sweaty and stunk. There was a note on the table from Yeah. It said, “I’ve gone fishing in the city’s water supply. I left some money on the bureau for bail.” Part of me wanted to eat the eggs and go back to bed, but instead I walked to the coffee shop. The woman behind the counter asked me what I wanted and winked. I told her I wanted some worms and a fishing pole. She laughed and said I was the second person to ask for fishing gear that day. She pointed in the corner. Yeah had his head down on one of the tables and was eating sleep.