#Typehue M: Mouthful

Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning, I wake up in a haze with this deep, sharp yearning in the bottom of my gut.

It carries me, rolling my feet one in front of the other, straight to the kitchen and casts my arm at the fridge door. Inside, I take out a jar of mustard, and before I can second guess myself, spoon out a big heap of it and put it in my eyes.