The Book of Numbers
He awoke in the clothes he'd worn the night before. Head pounding and unable to remember how he had gotten home he buried his face into the pillow with a groan. The first half of his birthday had been a celebration to remember. The drinks had arrived in a never-ending stream. He knew better, and now he desperately needed a glass of water and aspirin. Moving to sit up he felt something strange on his bed next to his hand. Face still buried, he tried to guess what it was by feeling. Raising his head enough to see there was a small black notebook invading his space. It wasn't his nor had he seen it before. Picking it up, he rolled onto his back to better examine his discovery. The pages were full of addresses, some in the city and some in other states, and each address had been assigned a dollar amount. Did he steal a real estate agent's little black book at some point in the night? Racking his brain trying to remember anything, his head, still pounding, returned no useful information. There was no name or phone number to suggest an owner. None of the addresses listed a real estate company. Deciding to find a way to return it he flipped through finding a relatively nearby address. It must be quite the apartment based on the price of the rent. Twenty thousand a month was definitely out of the average price range. Taking a quick shower and some aspirin he headed out to admit he was a thief.