A tenacious beam of sunlight punches through the hastily drawn drapes. It continues downward and settles heavily upon my shut eyelids. My world flares red.

A low, rasping sound, like a hippo sinking in quicksand, floats around the bedroom. I raise my head and look around for the source of the sound. In vain; my eyes are still screwed shut against the sunlight.

I bury my face into my pillow. The sound becomes muffled and I realize that I've been groaning. I gather my courage and open my eyes.

It is a mistake.

I am lying in a makeshift nest of twisted sheets, empty beer cans, and numerous paper wrappers. One of the wrappers is stuck to the side of my face. I gingerly pluck it off. Flakes of the congealed ketchup and crusted mustard that held it fast to my cheek flutter down in a prime-colored snowfall.

My vision is still blurry, but I already recognize those wrappers. They're from Nummy Burger, the 24-hour fast-food joint down the street.

And there are a lot of them.

I pull myself up into a sitting position and survey the scene.

It looks like I'm off the wagon again.

I've been in this situation before, so I know what to do. First, I curse as loudly as my aching head allows. Then, still sitting, I start grabbing wrappers, crumpling them up, and throwing them into the waste basket on the other side of the room. Most of them don't make it.

I don't worry about the empty beer cans; I leave them where they are lying. After all, they've been here since I started renting this place.

Throwing them away at this point would be just be...capricious.

He began to crawl towards the antiquated bathtub that stood on little clawed porcelain feet in the opposite corner of the room. Hanging over the tub was an old wall scroll of St. Augustine's Libertine's Prayer.

He stepped into the tub. He turned the water on and didn't wait for it to warm. He shivered as he read. "O Lord, make me chaste...but not yet."