It was a long nap, not as long as some, but better by an hour than the one yesterday. The resonant wind in his curls brought a freshness beyond sleep to the customarily stale early evening. This troubled him for a moment, nothing troubled him for much longer than that, but for that brief interlude he wondered if he’d been pursuing the wrong discipline. Maybe he should abandon his commitment to napping and instead figure out why his hair felt so right in the slight gale. Was it the product choice, the Tenax, that made the difference up there? How could it be so different than whatever he’d stolen from the apothecary aisle last month? Maybe it was the increasing length of the locks – he’d been saving money by avoiding regular haircuts. Or maybe – perhaps this was it, the way he slept had unmatted or otherwise arranged his hair just right, and now it caught the breeze like a sail. If so, he could chalk it all up to mere coincidence, and he wouldn’t have to give up napping, a relief indeed, for he didn’t know what else he’d do on all his idle afternoons. He tied up that rationalization like a sailor. Smirking, he fixed a gaze through his sunglasses at the setting sun, and presently turned in the opposite direction, heading into the night.