Thursday, 31 May 2018

Hazy memories

Everything is so comfortable and hazy. I drift through a sleepy fog to comfortably arrive at wakefulness, feeling arms and legs wanting to be stretched. As I oblige, I become aware of the foreign object beside me.
Everything is hazy still. It's a very large and warm object.
Shifting froom woozy wakefulness to alertness, I mentally check myself for pain. There is none.
Relieved, I check for clothing. Also none.
OK then. But to be fair, not really an indication of anything.
The large thing is silent. Maybe it's a pile of cats. Maybe I became that woman and forgot.
Other senses intrude on my wishful thinking. That's a very masculine deodorant smell.
I try to cudgel memories but there are none to be found. What was I doing yesterday?
Why hasn't the cat jumped on me?
When did I get green curtains? And start sticking up film posters?
Hang on a minute...
I don't want to disturb the lump who clearly lives here, so I gingerly sit up and glance around.
A splash of neon orange catches my eye and the memories come flooding back.
There was a 60s themed festival. I'd been loaned an outfit.
A dead hamster falls off a chair and I flinch. Oh yeah. I borrowed a wig too.
We'd partied hard - I started drinking at 11 and didn't stop. There was a barbeque. And music.
And the really hot guy.
Oh boy, him.
Did I really get that lucky?
Triple X rated scenes flash into my mind.
Ohh, yeah.
That lucky and more.
Nice.
No wonder he's tired.
I stretch again, then snuggle down and nap. Hopefully I'll need the rest.

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