--Index--

Stomach growls. Wake up.

Stomach growls. I remember having dreamt of you. Crunchy tears rest in the inner corners of my eyes.
Stomach growls again. I consider getting up to make myself some porridge, but ayo, it's 7.30, I might wanna sleep a bit more.
In a half-hearted attempt to silence my stomach, I scratch the crust out of my eye wrinkles and stick it in my mouth.
One tiny little bite, salty, sticky, now sticking on my incisor. I rub it off with the tip of my tongue, then swallow, sleep.