It all began with a hack, or before that. It simply wouldn't stop. No matter how hard he tryed to stop, irritant upon irritant, excuse upon excuse, it was as much an addiction as his new found self pity, and self pity began way before that. "Hack till I barf." but slime was already on his wrist and running up his arm. "Dammitt! Hack me to death." "Dammitt!" he rasped, somehow he knew it wouldn't be that easy. "Damm death, damm...(hack)...life." There were many more hack interjections before, during and after that, in fact, probably thirty or so in a row until his head was ready to explode. Was this a real live hangover? He had survived plenty of hangovers, they weren't anything he couldn't handle, but the recent ones were becoming much more real than he had counted on. "What did I expect?" he mused, what else could he do...among assorted hacks. Sweat flew of his forehead as he unsuccessfully tried to sit up...and as quickly as anafelictive shock there was no way he could breathe as his skin changed before his eyes from red to purple.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....hack! Wheeze, hick, wheeze, hack...something flew by....appaagah! Heeeeee...ha, he could breathe something, at least he had to convince himself of that, thin, shuddering, pained wheezes...Heeee....heeee...."Crap!" this wasn't just a hangover it was a nicotine hangover. "Well then..." his lungs rumbled, "I'll just..." and as he struggled to rise for the second time the alcohol hangover stuck him between the eyes like a freight train.
--there's my start... ***** Before, you are wise; after, you are wise. In between you are otherwise. Fravashi saying (from the formularies of Osho the Fool) <i>Edited by: danlo60 at: 10/4/06 9:47 pm </i>
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