Harvey Nelson awoke like he was surfacing from a deep plunge in cold water. His eyes snapped open and he drew in a sharp breath. He half-rose out of bed, only to relax again, sinking back into the sober white sheets of his sister’s guest bed.
Harvey took another breath, this time letting it out slowly, and stared up at the ceiling tiles of the basement bedroom tying to decode the Rorschach design created by the brown water stains. Dusty grey light filtered in through the small, filmy window, barely disturbing the darkness that lingered in the corners of the room. The only items in the room aside from the metal bed, an ancient, chipped dresser, and a bedside table (equally old), were a few boxes filled with clothes and personal items. The boxes lay scattered about the room, one or two spewing their contents across the floor. Aside from these things, the room was bare.