You lay in your bed, very depressed, Southern sun filtering in through your curtains.

It must have been about 1pm.

Before long, you heard footsteps up the stairs, and Phillip was soon at your door, holding a sandwich and a glass of water. “Mornin’, sunshine. Bought ya something to eat.” He said, placing the plate at your bedside.

With no reaction from you, he sat down beside you, rubbing your back. “C’mon, baby. Why don’t’cha just come throw the ball around with me and Spike in the yard?”