A Work of Art, Chapter 1

That motorcycle noise from that neighbor behind the house, across the backyard, woke him into a headache. What time could it be? Max felt like he could be dead, or on his way to his death. His left eye discerned the number 12 on the digital clock and closed again. It would be one of those days, the day after too much drinking, something he had vowed to never repeat again.

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