Pre-morning sleep: the dentist breaks out my tooth and asks at the end of the procedure, say, how do I feel? By gestures and writing, I offer him two choices:
A. As if it was scattered from within.
b) as if I was an alien with six genital holes and just lost one of the virginities that our society is customary to keep for a lifetime, and its loss is shameful and reproachable.

I did not wake up in the cold sweat, I will not lie, I woke up as usual in the morning, but to brush the bourbon of the ninth Baltic before going to bed is a heroic idea.