Trudy Chacon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hallelujahpilot) wrote2010-11-08 02:39 pm
hallelujahpilot) wrote2010-11-08 02:39 pm
OoM
She's drunk.
She thinks she's drunk.
No.
Stop.
She's numb and dizzy and nothing seems real and all she can taste is whiskey. Ergo, she is drunk.
She was numb. But she's reached the point of drunk where the whole 'numb' thing is starting to wear off.
Carl's room is closer, but she would have gone to his door instead of hers even if she'd had to go to the other end of Milliways.
She knocks, rests her head against the doorframe. She's wearing just shorts and a tank, and it's actually starting to be cold.
She knocks again. "Carl, you there?"
She thinks she's drunk.
No.
Stop.
She's numb and dizzy and nothing seems real and all she can taste is whiskey. Ergo, she is drunk.
She was numb. But she's reached the point of drunk where the whole 'numb' thing is starting to wear off.
Carl's room is closer, but she would have gone to his door instead of hers even if she'd had to go to the other end of Milliways.
She knocks, rests her head against the doorframe. She's wearing just shorts and a tank, and it's actually starting to be cold.
She knocks again. "Carl, you there?"