The Hangover

I saw myself dreaming and floating freely in the air. That was my first time having such a feeling in a long time. Yet, the stinky smell stung me like a bee.

Right away, I knew something was wrong and that I wasn’t at home on my bed. But rather I found myself sleeping on a bizarre and cold concrete floor amidst strangers. It hit me right in then; those memory losses are happening again. 

Whenever I’m drunk, I lose track of time, and the next day, I’d often find myself in unexpected and unpleasant places not too far away from my dwelling. This time, however, I woke up with such a massive hangover in a Mexico jail; too many miles away from home.

It was quite strange because I had no idea how I got there.

I scoured around with my weak eyes. I could barely open them. 

There were four other people with me. They were all dead asleep, snoring like there was no tomorrow. I tried to get up and look around. It was so dark and quiet. I checked to see the time. My cell phone and wristwatches were gone. The silence seemed a commodity. I could only hear the whisper of the night.

I didn’t want to wake up anybody in that hour, although I wasn’t even sure of the timing.  I slowly walked to the corner and sat down, waiting for the sunshine to break through the walls. 

I wished everything was just a dream. 

So, with the pounding pendulum sound hitting me like a migraine which seemed to break my skull, I laid my screaming head on the cold floor and closed my eyes, hoping to wake up on my warm and soft bed.

midnightink 8-29-2020