The morning air was thick with silence and cold when Clyde opened his eyes. The sky beyond the window was still dark, not yet touched by dawn. It was around 4 a.m judging by the stillness that blanketed the world.
He sat up with ease. He feels his body light and rested. His new vessel responded well, better than he expected.
Clyde dressed in Jack's old tracksuit and quietly stepped out of the room. The house was silent. No sign of the uncle.
Outside, the streets were empty, lit only by the occasional flicker of a streetlamp. In his mind, Jack's memories guided him through the layout of the neighborhood.
It was strange, having someone else's memories like this, but helpful nonetheless.
He jogged in a steady pace and cutting through a few alleys until he reached a small park nestled between apartment blocks and a fence of thin trees.
The place was empty and silent except for the distant chirp of early birds and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.
