Chapter 3: Scoring Points I thought that people in situations like these couldn’t get any sleep. But after a hot shower, a change of clothes, and lying down in bed, my eyelids quickly got heavy, and I slept like the dead for six hours. When I woke up, I felt surprisingly not bad. In fact, that oppressiveness I’d felt upon waking up for the past few months was gone. I sat up to check my phone and found no messages. The girl still didn’t need me, I guess. I lied down again and stared at the ceiling. Why did I feel so good despite having run someone over last night? A total turnaround from yesterday’s heavy regrets, my mind was clearer than ever. Thinking about it while listening to the drips of rainwater from the gutter, I came to a conclusion. Perhaps I was freed from my fear of falling lower and lower. Amid my miserable existence, I had felt myself rotting away. So I was full of anxiety over how much I’d fall, how bad I’d get. However, the accident last night dropped me straight to the bottom. Upon falling as low as I could go, there was a kind of extreme comfort in that darkness. After all, I couldn’t go any lower. Compared to the dread of a limitless fall, the pain of hitting the ground was much more concrete and bearable. There was nothing more I could lose. I had no hopes to betray, so I could have no despair. So I felt at ease. There’s nothing more dependable than resignation. I went out on the veranda to take a smoke. A few dozen crows were perched on the power lines some distance away, and some flew around the area cawing hoarsely. By the time I’d reduced about a centimeter of the cigarette to ash, I heard a woman’s voice from the neighboring veranda. “Good evening, mister shut- in.”