The moons hovered in the morning sky, like little children close to a mother. Max strolled back from the balcony, grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and slipped it on; it was nice and new and smelled of spring. The coffee maker chimed again, letting him know his cup was ready for the taking.
He sauntered into the kitchenette and grabbed the mug of comfort, glancing at the clock on the wall which told him it was time to get going.
But where?
He didn't know but he had that urge in him. Something programmed in him? Maybe. He took a few sips from the coffee, the black liquid danced across his taste buds which nearly sent him to a point of orgasm. He took another sip from his coffee and yet again it tasted what heaven must taste like.
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