Morning glory

The morning is a nice, respectful time to be missed.

It's nice to be one of the coherent thoughts a person has at the beginning of the day.

Jerrod Carmichael

It is a high brow party on the roof of some LA building.
Edwin comes up to me and tries to dance with me. He's a terrible dancer.
I steal away and find a metal bench on which I recline.
With my new eye level I have a clear view of a chair meters away across the pool.
Jerrod Carmichael comes to sit in the chair and his eyes immediately find mine.
I don't break eye contact, not even when he gets up and navigates his way around the pool, through the sea of gyrating bodies and gets to me.
I sit up, still maintaining eye contact. He bends over and kisses me. I kiss him back.
Just as suddenly, he breaks away and sits next to me, his hand flying to his head in frustration? Regret? Confusion?
"What am I doing?" he asks himself.
I open my mouth to speak but I am stopped by the feeling of an insect crawling on my neck. I slap my neck to kill it and I wake up to the sound of early birds.