When he woke up the next day he stretched, unwilling to relinquish the comforting warmth beneath the duvet for the chill bedroom air. He’d woken with an erection and a dissolving dream involving Rachel from the bakery, and he smiled at the brightening room, sighing contentedly. He supposed he’d always had a crush on her, like an excitable teen instead of the forty-something he was. He had no memory of the dream, just a feeling, and it shrank away in the promise of a new day. At last he stood up from his bed, shrugging on a dressing gown and padding to the toilet. After urinating he walked back to his room, enjoying the feel of the landing floorboards on his bare feet. Wood was never cold, just cool, whatever the temperature outside. He had always liked being this close to things. Carpets were fine, but walking on them barefoot he always felt as though he were separated from the body of the house. The wood was its skeleton, carpet merely clothing. Dressing, Ray frowned at a memory hovering just beyond his perception.
What do You think about The Thief Of Broken Toys (2010)?
