NaMojitoDriMo

Every part of me aches, especially my liver. I can barely focus my eyes, and every noise is like a jackhammer in my skull.

Why did I agree to this? I can’t remember, though I recall having very good reasons at the time. But now, weeks into my bender, I’m consumed with regret at ever having involved myself in something so foolhardy.

Still, too late to back out now. Let it never be said that I don’t finish what I start.

I drag my abused body from my bed, fix myself a Mojito, and get ready to face the day…

Weekly Prompt Story: RedRum

http://podcasting.isfullofcrap.com/2012/09/09/weekly-challenge-333-red/

RedRum

By Christopher Munroe

I finally bought myself a bottle of RedRum.

I figured it’d provide material for stories, going forward. You know, unexpected deaths, scrambling to hide bodies, the whole thing. Something pun-based yet horrific.

Disappointing.

Nobody died, no horrifying revelations, overall it was an uneventful night, drinking Rum and struggling to write.

I may have overdone it. Rum’s never agreed with me, and putting down the whole bottle was probably unwise.

Now my head’s pounding, I’m queasy and I can’t focus my eyes. I’ve never had a hangover this bad in my life! It hurts like mur…

Oh! I just got it!

Pistols at Dawn

I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes opened, yet forward I trudge.

Regret consumes me, as it’s done since I woke up. Why did I drink so much last night? Why did I end up playing Xbox with my roommates until 4am? Why hadn’t I gotten a decent night’s sleep? I knew I had to be up early!

And why’d I challenged that guy to pistols at dawn? Pistols at noon would have done just as well to salve my wounded honour.

I grip my pistol, try to ignore the hangover pounding in my ears, turn, and fire.