I open my eye
s afraid to move. I don't remember much about the night
before, but I know what consequence it brings. The fear of pain
keeps me absolutley still.
I slowly open my eyes, the light coming through the narrow openings in blinds burns white-hot through my brain
. I clamp my eyes shut, the red traces of light dance along the inside of my eyelids. My mouth is full of cat hair, the remnants of a gallon of spirits
imbibed the night before. I reach over, unconcious
ly knowing about the glass of water that years of such abuse has conditioned me to keep by my bedside. My eyes open again, slowly reaching focus. I pull myself up on my elbow
, leaning over, each movement sending waves of pain throught my body.
is warm, but soothing, sending comfort down my throat, washing away layers of filth
. Pulling myself up is a hurclean effort. I fight the agony
of each step making my way into the bathroom, on my way there I kick a discarded wine bottle
, the pain in my foot
is overshadowed by that in my head.
As I make my way to the bathroom I pass more bottles. Cheap Lambrusco
, brought by the delivery man with each order of forty mark
s or more. We'd been saving them up for a couple months, I went through them in one night. I fish out the Excedrin
, washing the former down with the latter. Back into the entry way I fish out a stale bagel
and the bottle of orange juice
The drugs have started their effects, and I make it to my desk
in a little less pain. I sit down in front of my computer
, choking down the bagel, with some help from the OJ
. There it is sitting on my keyboard, the reason for this excess. A letter
, penned by a one-time love, she tells me that she's met someone else
, that being away from me was too much and she couldn't do it. She'd been seeing someone else for two months. Two months of lies, two months where I thought everything was OK. two months where her memory soothed me through the horror
s faced in southern Turkey
. But now the German hospitality
, the food
, the beer
, offers nothing...