Welcome, dear guests! I'm so glad you've stopped by. The purpose of Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour is to highlight the work of nineteen talented authors. The RWISA (Rave Writers - Int'l Society of Authors) is an elite branch of the outstanding Rave Reviews Book Club, featuring the best of the best in writing.
I'm pleased to introduce John W. Howell.
Trouble
by
John W. Howell
I know its morning, but I don’t want to open my eyes. I am
starting to remember what went on last night and I don’t even want to imagine
who might be sleeping next to me. Not that I think there is anyone there since
I’m pretty sure I came home alone. I didn’t want to go back alone, and god
knows I tried hard to prevent sleeping by myself. I do remember coming on to
the beautiful woman in the bar. Wait a minute. I remember it because it was so
early in the evening, I didn’t have a lot to drink then. I know I drink too
much and lately, I have been having a hard time getting the events of the
previous night together. Okay, so before I open my eyes, I will give a thought
to what I believe the evening turned out to be.
First, I met David at the bar, and we had a drink. I ordered
gin on the rocks and David had bourbon. So far so good. David and I were
discussing something about workout shoes, then he left for the bathroom. The woman
came in and asked if I would mind buying her a drink. She had some story about
losing her purse and being pretty much stranded. I remember asking her if she
had someone she could call. I think she told me, no, but I’m not sure. Anyway,
we had a couple more drinks, and sometime in there, David came back. I
introduced the woman to David. I think her name was Chloe or Carolyn. By this
time, I am starting to feel pretty good. I ask her if she would like to stay
over and I remember her telling me she was not that kind of girl. We had some
more drinks and then decided to go to dinner. I asked the woman if she would
like to join us and she was pretty definite about the decline. I chalked it up
to my usual déclassé, and David and I left.
Now from there, it is a little fuzzy. I remember ordering
dinner and a couple more drinks. I really don’t remember finishing the meal or
leaving the place. This lack of memory is foretelling me that from experience
the outcome will not be good. I’m sure David and I went out after dinner as we
always do and so there are some blank places where mayhem could have occurred.
I am now sweating quite hard, and it isn’t the heat either. The room must be
fifty degrees if it is one. The sweat is as a result of the sinking, bottom of
stomach pit nervousness coming from the fact I have no idea what I did after we
left the restaurant. My head is also beginning to ache as a warning to my body
the caffeine level in my system is getting dangerously low. I am afraid I have
no alternative, but to get up and face whatever needs facing so I can get some
coffee. I know I will also need some painkiller as well. I will try aspirin and
know from previous headaches I will need to wash it down with about three
fingers of vodka. No ice just the ice-cold vodka from the freezer in a glass
with no ceremony. Get it into the system fast so the memory will come back, and
these infernal shakes will slow down for the moment.
I steel myself and get ready to get out of the bed. I will
need to move my body slowly, so I don’t cause a situation that inevitably leads
to nausea and the arrival of the dreaded throw up that doesn’t have the decency
to come when I’m numb and in the bag. I know my body would prefer if I did, in
fact, throw up, but my mind still considers throwing up the sign of someone who
can’t hold their liquor. God knows I can hold mine even if I can’t remember a
damn thing about the night before. Now is the time to open the eyes and have a
look around. I do the left one first since I think I am closer to the left side
of the bed and I’m sure no one is there. When I open my eye, I can almost hear
the tearing of the lids as they try to separate. Another joy of falling asleep
drunk; the eyes feel glued shut. I look with my left eye and see nothing but
the bedroom window looking reddish and covered in the gauzy curtains one of my
past loves put up there. The red glow must be the bloodshot view my iris gets
looking out of my eyeball.
I open the right and almost scream out loud. My worst
nightmare has come true and is lying next to me. That beautiful Chloe or
Caroline is sound asleep, and now I have to wonder why I didn’t feel the heat
of her body before I opened my eyes. Immediately the old Coyote ugly joke comes
to mind about chewing off an arm to get away, but this woman is not ugly and
not on my arm. I begin to hyperventilate since no good can come from not
remembering how this lovely creature ended up in my bed. I can see she doesn’t
seem to have a shirt on either. I am not about to probe to understand about the
pants and must try to get to my medications before I actually throw up right
here in the bed. I roll to the left and swing my legs over the edge of the bed
and sit up as gracefully as I can. I see I am completely naked and instead of
feeling free, I believe I feel more like someone who has a clamp around the
midsection. I rise off the bed very slowly.
“Morning darling,” she says.
“Uh good morning,” I say. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Ummm that sounds so good right now.”
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”
“Oh, don’t worry I won’t.”
Son of a bitch. What the hell have I done now? I can feel my
gag reflex starting to go into automatic drive, so I rush to the kitchen and
open the freezer. The vodka is right there, and I am not even going to wait for
the glass. I take three big swallows and hold my breath. My stomach gives a
lurch like I just dropped an explosive down the hatch but retains the liquid in
place. “God thank you,” I say out loud. It Looks like I can go to the coffee
machine and brew some strong stuff. At times like these, I am so thankful I
quit smoking. As bad as I feel, had I consumed a couple of packs of smokes, I
would have wanted to kill myself about now. I hold on to the counter as the
coffee begins its cycle.
“How do you feel?”
I wheel around and almost lose my precious vodka which is
just starting to worm its way into my brain. “I feel like shit.”
“I am not surprised. When I ran into you again, you were
pretty wasted.”
“Whoa, I sure was. Where is David?
“You and David got
into a fight.”
“A fight? What were we fighting about?”
“You wanted to take me home, and David didn’t want you to do
so.”
“So, where is he?”
“I really don’t know.
We left him on the street.”
“What? Left him on the street? Why the hell did we do that?”
“As I said you were pretty wasted.”
“Yeah but leaving him passed out on the street.”
“Oh, he wasn’t passed out.”
“What was he?”
“You shot him. I believe David is dead.”
“Shot him? How is that possible. I don’t own a gun.”
“That didn’t stop you from finding one.”
“Finding one? Where did I find a gun?”
“I loaned you mine.”
“And I shot David with it?”
“Yup. Right in the back as he tried to walk away.”
“Oh my God. What on Earth made me do that? He’s my best
friend.”
Was. I wouldn’t say it was an Earthly persuasion. I do
believe my work is done here.”
“Your work? What do
you mean?”
“Hear those sirens. They are coming for you. I called them.
I would get some clothes on if I were you. Oh, and a piece of advice.”
“Advice?”
“Yeah. Think twice before you decide to mess with the devil.
See you on the other side.”
***
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