Note: This is the third time I've had to upload this and I'm tired of making the same comments over and over again. So briefly: Sorry this was a quickie, been extremely busy, watch out for some upcoming juicy content, will have to put this on a slightly more open-minded webpage soon. I don't believe in censorship so there may not be a cencored version here. Thanks for all the great comments, by the way, I just love reading what you have to say.

Part 9 – Insomnia Interlude

It was 3:30 a.m. and Ralph sat on his "bed" with a pen, a pad of paper with the bookshop's logo water-stained in the corner, a newly sharpened pencil and a cup of cheap black coffee rattling against a saucer. He hadn't slept in some time and wasn't willing to start on it again. He had too much to think about.

The paper on his lap read:

-Review of categorization duties

-Shirt provided

-Free coffee

It was a short list that he had compiled earlier that day to remind himself what would be expected at his first day of work at the book store. He would have to learn how to properly categorize things. He would receive a clean, white shirt, and would, like all the store's employees, have free coffee. Those things; just those things.

He raised his coffee cup to his lips to find that there were only a couple drops of cold, stale fluid left. He set the cup back onto the saucer. As he shifted onto his side it tipped over with a small 'clink', but it didn't matter. His attention was directed to what he'd added to his list:

-Jack sees a psychologist

-Why in therapy?

-Appointment was too short

-Lying about appointment after tea?

Ralph had a habit of writing his thoughts on paper—that way he could remember them. But this he had not even realized he'd put down until nearly half an hour after he had, and now he sat there looking at the words and wondering. He started thinking about what had happened that day. There was something strange that had occurred between lunch and the bookshop.

When Jack had left tea he said that he had an appointment with his therapist.

Fine.

Of course, it begged the question of what exactly the reason for his treatment was, but that was not an important question, though one that did deserve some further thought. Were the answers as obvious as Ralph wanted them to be? The thing that really bothered Ralph was that it had not been ten minutes after they had both left after their tea before he literally bumped into Jack at the bookshop.

There had been no appointment. There had been no time for it.

So, why would Jack lie?

It was that question that shut down his brain. Too much thinking, too much excitement, too much depression, and far too little rest. For the remainder of the early morning hours, Ralph lay on his bed – paper, pen, and coffee cup on his chest – in a deep a dreamless sleep before he was to wake again after dawn for his first day of work.