Woke up to the cold from a window with a fan that had been off inexplicably the whole night prior still

Chilled from a dream that ended with a sudden wind on the tip of a peninsula that knocked me off again

With the raze of children's games as car doors slam screams for help aloft from voices on my cry's wolf list

What I might give to sleep until rested battling sand men until broken or bested, unworthy of slumber that

Like what my foes get, requisitioning golems and gargoyles seems like a safe bet but ill have a mimosa