Lying upon his bed, he recalled vowing to take time off of work if he felt himself slipping. He couldn’t afford to miss much time given the markets’ recent volatility, and so he hoped that the upcoming weekend would be enough to restore him; he suspected that a change in scenery might be all that he needed to escape the nocturnal torment that was slowly destroying him.
Tim turned on his side, replacing the clock atop his nightstand before rolling back and gazing blankly at the swirling shadows. His hand fell instinctively upon the empty space beside him and he sighed deeply; the loneliness never seemed as intense as it did following the nightmare.
In those first waking moments, he wished desperately to have a hand to hold—a reassuring embrace awaiting him, telling him...
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