Leo

Leo scrunched his sleepy eyes at the sound of disgustingly peppy birds blaring from his phone. He batted his hand around the coffee table in an attempt to shut them up. He succeeded, the time on the screen reading, “4:30 PM.” Leo reluctantly straightened from his curled-up position on the couch, arching his back in a deep stretch. He supposed he should probably get to work. He walked across his dim apartment to the refrigerator and stumbled over the neat pyramid of colorful yarn balls stacked on the carpet. His pupils went wide, momentarily distracted by their enticing rolling motion. His focus returned back to food. Opening the fridge, Leo grabbed a gallon of whole milk and drank straight from the carton. A small satisfied hum escaped his throat while his stomach gurgled in protest. The carton went back in the fridge and Leo walked back to the couch. Just five more minutes won’t hurt, he rationalized as he curled back up on the warm cushions.

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