OOM: He can take a hint
When he woke up this morning, it was just like any other morning. Up, bathroom, shower, teeth, hair, clothes, breakfast. All normal...except the bit where he looked in the bathroom cabinet for a fresh razor and it opened too fast and smacked him in the mouth. No harm done, apart from a small cut on his upper lip that bleeds like a bitch for ten seconds, then stops. Whatever.
He goes to breakfast. Normal normal. Except the bit where he picks up his coffee with his left hand and a pain sears through it and causes him to spill the entire contents down his shirt.
Seriously, what the fuck?
He sighs and goes upstairs to change. That's when he gets it - suddenly the only clothes in his closet are black pants, a dark striped shirt and heavy black overcoat. There's dust on the hems of the pants and in the bathroom, a slightly frayed fabric band-aid waits on the sink.
He has to laugh at Bar's subtlety. It's fine though - he inspects the small cut and it looks exactly the same as when he got it back home. The band-aid fits the same. The clothes make it feel like he never left.
And that's it. Time to go. There are times when he knows how to take a hint and this is one he's more than happy to oblige.