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Woozily Haddler pried his eyes open to a dizzying whirl of golden brown. He closed his eyes again and moaned. Then he tried again. This time when he opened his eyes he saw that the golden brown remained like the beautiful haze of late afternoon just as it was beginning to dip into evening. It seemed a little off at first despite the familiarity he had with the ceiling. It was his ceiling to his bedroom. It was only the realization that he was not used to lying in his bed at such a time as late tea time as the sun suggested. He knew that low and comfortable seated-position of the sun anywhere. He blinked a little more and realized that he was lying flat on his bed in his clothes and without his covers. His mind was still foggy and almost sedated in the golden gleam pouring through the open curtains of his window like sun tea over him, and whatever else was unhindered by long sleepy shadows. He suddenly looked up. On the mantelpiece of his little fireplace he saw that his clock was