As the morning glory came, and the first rays of light came passing through the small cracks of the room, Quagmire snapped awake. He stood up, strangely calm and composed. Memories from yesterday came flashing through his mind—the soft and warm embrace, and the melodic lullaby that had made him fall asleep.
"That was exhilarating and dreamy. This is the first time that I have not remembered my dream. So pleasant and cozy." He craved as he raised his right hand and gazed at it, seeking to remember that fuzzy feeling.
"No, Quagmire. I still have a job to do. She was quite beautiful. Yes, definitely your type. However, let's pursue her at another time." He reflected as he realized that he would eventually make a decision.
With a firm and clear mind, he formed a fist with his right hand, and with a pleasant smile, he now had another purpose and another will to live by.
