I knew I shouldn’t have started on the Tequilla. I lay spread-eagled across my bed, head pressed against the wall. The pressure was causing red pulses behind my eyelids. Mouth gaping, tongue dry as old leather from sucking the limes; I could smell the stench of my morning after breath.
My skin prickled from the sun’s heat as it crawled across my arm. Damn, the curtains were open and that meant light. I pried my eyelids open a quarter inch. The sunlight stabbed straight into my brain. ‘God just let me die’ I groaned causing more pain to radiate through my head.
I moved my arm and bumped into a solid something. I groped along an arm, warm, hirsute and not belonging to me. Could it get any worse? Who out of the deepest pit of hell did I drag home last night? With herculean effort I shoved myself up onto the side of the bed, eyes still closed. My head expanded to the size of a watermelon, pain pulsating. I tried opening just one eye. It opened halfway, holding onto my head I turned. “Fuck, Tequilla and Tony I should have known better.
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