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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Experience · #1502236
the beginnings of a book about a few adventures i have had
The figure in the bed moaned a loud moan as a hand made its way from under the pillow
There was an alarm blaring somewhere in the unfamiliar room. “That’s it” she said, “I am going to find you”. A leg joined the hand and the slow process of sliding out of a bed commenced. There was a woman attached to the hand and leg that slithered out of the huge warm glorious bed. Eyes at half mast arms out stretched she used her limited senses and crawled around the room determined to kill the hellish racket the filled the once quiet soothing void. After the vile little machine was killed for its crimes she allowed herself to look at her surroundings. There was upturned table one broken lamp well two if you count the what shamefully seemed to be an antique wall sconce and two un-drunk crates of wine accompanied by three empty crates that with the way she was feeling probably used to hold wine. The urge to retch was too much…thank god for the waste paper basket next to her. After a horrid moment of wondering if god and her body would ever allow her to inhale again she took survey of the room for a second time. 2 meters away was a warm bed and all around her was sheer confusion. The choice was not hard to make and going back to sleep was voted for unanimously between her and herself. This could all be dealt with later.


The blaring started up again and then stopped then again it woke her only to ignored, and finally a new sound came “madam?!” *bang bang bang* “madam!” you have missed six wake up calls. I am sorry but I can no longer spend my time prying you out of bed!”
It hit her then she had no idea where the hell she was then in a flash it hit her.
The last thing she remembered was a dirty bar on a corner, and boots for some reason big black boots. “Alright I hear you, thank you!” she shouted through the heavy wooden door, trying her best not to sound like a woman who just woke up with NO idea of what the hell was going on. She rose and headed to what only could be a closet or a bathroom, as soon as she opened the door she wished it was the closet. For staring back at her was the reflection of what only could be described as a mess.

He hair was shorter, what looked like about two days of smeared makeup was on her face, words were covering her arms and she was wearing a sweater she had NEVER seen before.

“Oh god” was all she said “what the hell happened?”
Now this question was meant to be rhetoric but a voice from behind the shower curtain felt kind enough to offer some enlightenment. “You...” it said “…threw the wildest party I have ever been to *burp* and I wish to offer my thanks oh Goddess of the Wine” and then with that a man who we can only presume owned the voice crawled out of the tub like a mutated butterfly unzipped his pants and began to pee in the sink.

To be continued…
© Copyright 2008 Laura Collins (laurac at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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