I wake up, **** drunk, with a headache that quakes at my temples and somewhere towards the rim of the tail of my head, that dense pocket. It takes my brain for a spin while I’m removed.

I attempt to get myself up off the seat I fell asleep in. My grip slips on the wood grain handles. It’s imported legs rub against the wooden floors, shrieking.

I try once more.

I triumph.

I slinky over to the kitchen where I wash my face in the sink, hoping to rinse off some alcohol that has seeped through my pores.

The frigid water wakes me up, opening up my lungs at whatever time it may be, wherever I may be.