It was time to head back inside. What was left of his cigarette had already begun to burn his fingers. He whirled around, squinting at the distorted faces that confronted him. He could do this, he thought, just one step at a time. As he waddled inside, he couldn't fight the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Was it that burning sensation that coarsed through his core, or was it rather the more acute sense of overwhelming oppressiveness, that he had begun to become aware of.

His environement had taken on a peculiar grotesqueness that he had never noticed before. Take the man in the corner who was laughing uncontrollably, his teeth stained with food, sauce running down his chin. For some reason this disgusted him more than usual. Or the woman who was clutching at her partners ass with a smile of devious delight, was somehow sending shocks down his thighs.

As he edged his way from the door, he couldn't seem to stifle a mounting wave of panic, or was it paranoia? He noticed how everyone systematically moved from his path, avenging themselve with a barrage of alarmed and reproachful looks. Were they all in on a joke at his expense, he questioned, If only he could peer through their minds eye.

He stumbled, the floor was coming up fast but the disaster was averted when he caught himself on a nearby chair. He clambered onto it, letting out a deep sigh of relief. A man was looking straight at him. "Look man, I already told you, you're cut off from the bar"!

262 Brevity Quest 2015

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