The morning chill through his bones and the cold pavement he wakes to find himself in an alley. Where was he ? Bringing his hand to his face he'd rub his eyes, his head was pounding and his feet were wet. As he brought his hand down he noticed blood on the palm of his hand. He would look at his other it was blood there as well. What happened? He asked himself as his eyes would open wide now, What did I do? He got up from the heap of cardboard and trash bags he had occupied for the night and there he stood next to a worn down old shack by the water. Suddenly he knew where he was he began to examine himself to make sure the blood was not his own wound. He was good as far as he could tell he would stumble a bit walking toward the lights in the street. It was still dark out though the sun was just preparing the sky for its light. He could smell the water in his shoes and his pants were wet as well... it had happened again he knew it. He'd head home trying to get as far away as possible