I woke up with a splitting headache.
Checked my head, my hands.
No blood.
I looked around.
Hotel room. Clean, but nothing fancy.
Phone book says Dallas.
I’m in Dallas.
Where was I before Dallas?
I don’t know.
I check my wallet.
Cards. Driver’s license.
That’s me, Ted Martin.
I look through my receipts, trying to piece together how I got here.
Restaurants.
Hotels.
Rental cars.
I lay it all out on the bed.
I check my pockets for a cell phone.
None.
The nightstand. An envelope.
Full of white powder.
“Breathe” it says.
So I breathe.
And sleep.
Sleep.