*click
sound of a door opening can be heard.
A man in his late 20s is walking towards his apartment. Wearing a simple polo and pants, a messy hair that looks like it hasn't been combed for two days, a backpack that is filled with all of his things. An eye glass that is disproportional to the other side of his face and tiredness that is clearly visible in his eyes. After a brief moment of getting inside, he throws his bag with no cate of where it would go or what state it will be after.
In twelve hours of work there is nothing more that he desires than to rush in his movement to get into his bedroom and dump his exhausted body into his waiting bed that is from his memory a day ago is as soft as clouds and every bit of dream that he has. A true dream indeed but for a man that has a difficulty of sleeping he wouldn't get the complete experience he trully desires.
Unfortunately this routine has been going on for weeks, hoping that exhaustion can help improve his situation and make him sleep fast, this is done out of desperation, and in some nights it does but most of the time it does not
just like tonigt.
He knew it and with nothing else to do laying in bed he alternate between staring at the ceiling and playing with his phone.
Few hours more chilling wind in the room is ignored and he felt the weight of his eyelids intesify by the second and with that he started his slumber.