Fallen

         It was raining outside.  The rain pattered on the windows of the penthouse suite.  Groggily he sat up, his head was pounding.  He could feel every individual ventricular contraction made by his heart, his vision was dark around the edges.  It was five thirty seven in the morning.  Looking around, he noticed the clothing strewn about the room.  Following the trail with his eyes, the mix of men and women’s clothing lead to the bed.  He looked at the beautiful form of the woman that lie sleeping below the sheets.
         He stood up, silently.  His bare feet brushing the solid oak flooring as he retraced last night’s steps, slowly recollecting his clothing.  A soft moan sounded from the bed.
  “Josh?”  The voice was that of the groggy temptress, who had seemingly led him astray the previous night.  He didn’t respond, moving silently into the bathroom.
         The lights came on in a flare.  His eyes ached with a deep, penetrating throb.  His face was pale, five o’clock shadow on his jaw and chin.  His normally deep blue eyes where distorted by red, his eyes where terribly bloodshot.  His black hair was ruffled.  He ran his fingers through it briefly.