Getting up early, and it's already hot.

   Sometime in the middle of the night the ceiling fan put a chill on to him like a cold wet wind; and then he woke sweaty on the bare mattress, with the sheets bundled up off to the side, his head stuck to the pillow and the fan spinning out bad breath.   Sat up, on the edge of that that swampy nest, looking out the fogged up window into the fogged up world, the Sun still thirty minuets to the east, a full Moon making its best attempt at daylight.  The Moon is always in competition with the sun, but never does even come close in the race to illuminate; the Sun will boast on its win by showing off it's power in the visible light category,demonstrating at the same time that it can do much more, and will pour on the heat, just to make that point stick.  Detaching from the bed he went over to his dresser and felt around in the moon light for all the right clothes.   The air kicked on for a bit, made his bowl of cold cereal, went to the bathroom, opened the fridge, grabbed a can of pop, a thermos,cold cuts,cheese,pear - and fled the apartment.