Karl
The incessant buzzing of my phone’s alarm is drowned out by the pounding
inside my head—a lingering reminder of last night’s… festivities.
Why did I think that having one more whiskey was a good idea? I was already
pretty drunk last night by the time I got home, but I couldn’t stop thinking about
Abby.
In a feeble attempt to drown those thoughts out and get some sleep, I guess I
thought one more drink was the way to go. I still remember raiding the minibar in
my apartment and pouring a rather tall glass of whiskey—no ice—which I
Enter title…
proceeded to knock back while giving half of my attention to a crappy movie I
found on N*****x.
Oh, how I wish I didn’t drink that whiskey. I feel like shit, and I’m not even fully
awake yet.
the red
at me: 7:15 a.m.
my eyes and yawning. “I’m never drinking
wolf grumbles inside of me, equally as perturbed by my
week from now, you’ll
never hurt anybody.’”
eyes, running a hand through my unkempt
drinking a sleeping pill or something.
and yet I also feel
you should get
on Abby
mention of her name sends
last night come flooding back in. She looked
to me in the alley, leaning against
sunset in the
badly, but I couldn’t
especially not when she has this competition to
about today.
I say, although hesitantly. “But I don’t think it’s
probably already at the studio,
competition. I’ll see her later while I’m
competition from the audience.”
Abby
everybody. I figure she will be
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