Vast into Lala Land—visions not miniscule, but spacious. Abruptly jolted by a train. Floundering with hesitant frustration he snaps and the train is gone, but not the noise.

Eyes groggy like the early moans—begging for just one or two or five more minutes. It hits him. I need to get up, I need to soothe my flow, he thinks.

Start the day with an early dance—a type of prance, more of a shuffle. Do a quick lap and out he goes—out it goes, back in he goes.

Rejuvenated the crunching begins—dry—he quickly laps up the water. Again with the dance like lap, but this time up the stairs. Burrow himself under the covers. Begging for Lala Land.