heaving hoisted myself out of bed some minutes before I was vaguely aware of the figure standing at the doorway. At this point nothing was clear except for the smell of vomit and brute cologne, but things were getting clearer. Someone In trouble. I wasn't exactly sure if it was I or the person in the doorway but one of us was in a bad way. On second thought I was surely in trouble, I just didn't know if it pertained to me or him.
I reached for my pistol but I don't have one, so instead relentlessly scratched at my crotch. He started to speak in a low desperate tone, but I just raised a finger indicating my task needed further work. I had hoped he would leave at the sight of self abuse but he must have been in truly great need.
At this point my words were only a murmur so I let him speak while I descended the stairs and dug around the kitchen for something to drink. He spoke of some friend in need. I struggled with some year old room temperature Coke gulping it down as bad medicine. He said he was in trouble and I had to help. This was a warm buzz of words at my bleary mind for several minutes. I was all inward and sleep hoping he might leave but he continued. This wasn't just his friend this was mine. Mine, mine are asleep in bed upstairs where I should be. After several dark moments I understood, I needed to help someone, but who?
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