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John awoke to the sound of vomiting. Wincing at the head-vice grip of a hangover, he peeled open his eyelids, taking in the crumpled duvet, drunkenly discarded clothes, and knocked-over guitar. Breathing slowly to avoid his own urge to retch, he listened to the coughing and spluttering from the bathroom. It sounded like Simon. Listening further, he could faintly hear the ringing of the Sunday church bells from the town. He looked at his alarm clock - 8:58 am. Gently, he flipped the alarm switch to avoid the loud radio burst that would probably shatter his cranium into thousands of soggy, bone-flecked fragments.
The retching stopped, but there was no other sound, suggesting that Simon was either gathering his strength, or had passed out slumped over the toilet. Either was possible. John ran his thick tongue around the bitter, stale cavity of his mouth. Carefully standing, he pulled his red dressing-gown over his old-sweat-covered body, naked except for last night's boxer shorts.
He walked slowly down the dingy, nicotine-stained L-shaped corridor of the flat, away from the front door and around the corner to the kitchen and living room area. Floor-to-ceiling windows bracketed the living room, with its soft grey carpet, sofas and mid-range TV, on a table scattered with old copies of FHM and a few old coffee mugs. The kitchen was separated from the rest of the room by its linoleum flooring and a formica counter.
He flipped the switch on the kettle, and sat on one of the stools, the metal legs cold against his thighs. He put his head in his hands and sighed. Footsteps in the corridor preceded the arrival of Simon, bags under his eyes, hair tousled, mouth gaping, looking like a bad B-movie zombie.
"Fancy a cuppa?" said John.
"All right then, cheers", replied Simon.
The Sunday morning began in earnest.
Yeuch. It seems that the Scary Ex and The Bastard have gained Freddy Krueger-esque powers to invade and disturb my sleep. I'm surprised that I didn't find myself cut into tiny pieces and scattered round the Evil Harridan's bedroom this morning. Maybe I've just been thinking too much again.
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