Red Teeth: The Small Hours, All Day by Kuro「 CROWNED DOG 」

First, the night stopped hurting. Then it stopped ending.

An improvement, by all available accounts.

He wore the morning well. Buttoned to the throat. A little stiff at first, but these things settle.

Breakfast. Weather. Something almost funny.

Again. Still. The sun has been informed.

Layer by layer — daylight. Layer by layer — acceptable answers. Layer by layer — a face fit for visitors.

Come in. There is nothing to wake.

And morning, suddenly, no longer made to measure.

RAW INFINITE PRESENCE