When he realized that he was sitting sprawled on the floor of his apartment, it was like he had just flicked back into existence. As he searched, his memories came in broken pieces, warped with dream-edges along them.

He hauled himself to his feet and into his bathroom. The light flickered and then steadied. Inspection revealed his clothing to be muddy and bruises sploched purple along his arms and shoulders. There was a gash in his shin, clotting blood joining that with his sock, which he separated with a gasp.

Rubbing alcohol was in the medicine cabinet. He liberally splashed this across his leg, and returned to his bedroom. Fatigue weighed down every part of his body.