He was looking for his watch and didn’t see the leg of her stained teak desk before it gashed the little toe of his right foot, separating skin and tissue and blood in the process. A rather sharp scream escaped escaped his lips. Sarah stirred.

“Steve?” she muttered in a sleepy haze. Her hand swept over the place in the bed he should have been. She was still caught in that state between dreaming and waking that we never get enough of in the morning.

He thought about saying something to her as he hobbled about her bedroom looking for articles of clothing, something to get her back to sleep. But he couldn’t remember her name and he couldn’t find his left shoe.