I awoke to three men of AFD in white cotton briefs landing with a crash on my bed. Pieces of a porcelain toilet scatter through the room, along with the debris of the broken ceiling. I am so tired. After a conversation with the landlord that confirms he will not be willfully taking responsibility, I attempt to go back to sleep. The neighbors outside are speaking loudly. I look up to see, through the crack in the window, the bottom halves of their legs as they walk hurriedly in different directions.