The vacuum whine woke him every morning.
She met him once in the communal hallway to apologise, her son lingering behind a haircut.
One day, it was an hour earlier than usual. A black car met her outside. Later, there was a gathering. Drinks.
The alarm clock wakes him now.
Really struggled to get this one into 50 words, so I’m going to write a longer version this week.
Just Punch The Clock 