Jack lay on his back, hands resting on his stomach, breath coming out in slow, lazy breaths. What time was it? Why did he care again? The man felt the early morning rays spread out over his aged, lined face and he grumbled. His grey, pencil thin mustache twitched upon his upper lip and his pointed beard shifted as he ground his teeth together.
Thankfully, in his advancing years, Jack had kept his teeth intact.
But now wasn’t the time to think on things like teeth. It was time to enjoy his morning in bed.
Jack Maple 