He wrenched himself out of bed with agonizing regret yet again; a modern day Sisyphus. Outside, the fall weather dropped in fat, cold wafts and flows against the house; wet and chill in the brittle dawn light. Inside the room, however, it was pitch black thanks to heavy curtains. On the bed was a heaped mess of thick sheets and not fewer than two enormous comforters. The whirlpool of fabric formed the basis of the kindest and warmest of nests. Why any intelligent creature would under his own power leave this cave of comfort is regrettable.

There, at his feet, the cat. It had spent the lion's share of the night curled up on his feet; a fuzzy and breathing kind of hot water bottle. Looking up with wise and innocent, sleepy eyes in the near-dark, the cat uttered a single word of wisdom: "Meow" and indignantly fell immediately back to sleep.

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