The boss
As the first light of dawn began to creep through his bedroom window, George Morgan stirred from his sleep. The events of the past few days swirled in his mind, a confusing mix of terror, wonder, and uncertainty. With a deep breath, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor.
"Alright, George," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Time to face the music."
He hurried to the bathroom and took his bath. Took the outfit he had picked up ffor work the previous night and quickly got dressed. He gathered his briefcase and keys. He paused at the bedroom door, taking one last look at his reflection in the mirror. The pale, muscular stranger with the oddly shadowed eyes stared back at him, a mix of fear and resolve etched on his face.
"Here goes nothing," George murmured, flicking off the light and plunging the room into darkness.