When Sleep Won't Come

He bangs into hallway walls like a pinball; in his fists cold roast turkey slathered in blackberry jam – globs of which have escaped onto his bare thighs.

He’s in the grip of Ambien, three, taken with whiskey.

She’s up, two time zones west, text-flirting with some guy.


The text, “*rgrrmfsklgforeh,” comes first. It’s followed by an incoherent email, a bumbling voicemail.


She ignores them all, notes the time, smiles, thinks….revenge.


He wakes, his mobile tucked in his briefs, blackberry seeds stuck in his teeth.


“Oh, Hell.”


And checks the phone, to see what apologies need to be made.
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Salmonqueen said…
Love this! It's very visceral, v=can just here the guy thumping into the walls, and see the grease from the turkey and the jelly dripped onto his ( prolly hairy) thighs. Then, you read about the Ambien, and have that " AHA" moment, all the stuff we've heard of people doing while on Ambien comes into play. Just picturing all the rest, just like a movie short of a dream.
12:12 AM
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