Part152, the hangover

26th, Saturday, June, 2010. I woke up in the afternoon with my cold wet back pasted
to the bamboo sheet beneath me. The first thing I became aware of was my loathsome
headache. I cursed the heat for its unforgiving hangovers. I turned my head
slowly and the whole bed began to spin. I looked outside and saw a tempest. A
bucket of rain shot sideways threw the window and drenched my threw the
mosquito net. I sat up with a shocked gasp as I was slapped awake by the
coolness. Suddenly an ear splitting crack of thunder broke above the building
and I ran to shut the window as hung cloths flew around the room and the
windows vibrated and buckled dangerously. I shut the windows and looked outside
as the sideways rain and lightning forking at the metal scaffolding of the new
buildings nearby like a stack of brownies. I looked down and saw the lines of
palm tree bending way over and small things zipping helplessly around the
street bullied by the wind. This dramatic view had distracted and relieved me
from my hang over momentarily but alas only for that long.


I began my miserable spins again and I
lunched from the window and found the toilet bowl. I got rid of the little food
and liquid I had and then began to dig deep and try and expel my very soul.
Horrid acidic orange bile slowly and reluctantly was transported with every
painful involuntary spasm up my throat. My legs shook and I steadied myself
with one hand on the floor. I retched and retched again, heaving, doubling over,
dribbling unnatural bright orange foulness from my burning mouth. I stood up
and looked at my gray face in the mirror. A gloomy cloud rumbled over head and
I brushed the clammy sweat from my freezing shoulders and shook in the


I vowed whole heartedly never to drink again.
I shuffled to the water dispenser and quaffed a cupful. The acid reawakened cruelly
by the water. I rushed again to the bowl and shouted down the porcelain telephone
(I love that saying) and then had a quick attack of diarrhea. I could hear the
rain smacking and slapping against the windows and it was like the sound of a stampede
boring into my poor head. I wished that it would stop


From the moment I made the mistake of
opening my eyes this day I knew I should not have. I hosed myself off in the
shower and then went straight back to bed.

“do you want some food my Tim?” Sarah
lovingly asked.


“No” I crocked


“Maybe we could go to that volcano or the
aquarium today?” she tried again




I winched as I got back into bed and I
squeezed my eyes tightly shut in the vain hope it would make me feel better. I
fell asleep as the weather assaulted my windows, threw currents of electivity
all over the place and set clouds loose on each other and let them boom and
blast over my head.


I woke up again late at night feeling so
much better. I smiled as I realized my body had recovered and also that the
storm outside had exhausted its self. I opened up the windows again and smelled
the wet fresh air. The night calm. A few clouds sat still in the air and the full moon bathed the sky in silver

4 thoughts on “Part152, the hangover

  1. Ah Tim .Its your poor poor liver struggling to expel the poison. Thats wot is making you feel so toxic . Pray have pity on your organs

  2. They are begging , pleading , entreating you to be less profligate with your health [your wealth ]. Have a care . BALANCE, you warrior scribe , balance is the key

  3. Mum has been writing the last 5 comments , as you prolly spotted ,. Am on Dads e mail . He dragged me from t’kitchen to show me your wondrous most recent writing.xmum

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