When I wake up, I feel my feet cold. I open my eyes, and I notice that I've slept on an armchair. There's an empty glass next to me and an almost full bottle next to it. If not for this second detail, I'd feel like an old boozer.
I hide the bottle and rinse the glass from the traces of wine, and I walk back to the bed.
I cuddle under the covers, hoping that I won't get up soon. I'm more tired than usual, and it's not like anyone will need me. The fire died down, and now the room is quite chilly.
I'd take another cover, but there isn't one in this room. I've already wrapped myself in two blankets, and I have to wait until my body warms up on its own.
How did I even manage to fall asleep before? It was probably thanks to the fire.
I close my eyes and focus on the image of a hot desert, but Patricia opens the doors and storms in. She moves the curtains, and the room is filled with the first rays of the day.
