• Home

Uneasy Companions

Posted on July 27, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

He woke to what felt like a thin warm stream of fluid on his face. He started and sat up.  The threadbare sheets on the smelly floor were rumpled and the layers of dust that had coated the window panes over the years made it difficult for him to tell what time it was. He knew his bladder was swollen to bursting point but that could mean it was one a.m. He needed more, like a clock.

The wetness dripped down the side of his head into his dry mouth via his parched lips and he got a small taste before he violently shook his head and spat. He whipped his head around and glared at the puppy who had prudently placed some distance between them. He touched the side of his face tentatively, sniffed his fingers and growled at the dog, “you peed on me?”

Quite characteristically the little fur ball was more interested in chasing an invisible something or the other near the wall than he was in being scolded by his master.

That’s when it hit him.

The upchuck reflex was upon him in a flash and he lurched for the wash basin to deposit a watery sludge that hit the curve of the basin at a shallow angle. Some of it sloped up the far side like a gravity-aided skateboarder up a half pipe and splashed onto the floor.

He steadied himself by grabbing onto the wobbly tap. Eventually the contraction around his ribs loosens enough for him to be able to breathe again and he turned the squeakily protesting tap until it released enough water for him to gargle, spit, repeat.

He couldn’t remember the night before but if his taste buds hadn’t shriveled up completely that was vodka he tasted as it came back up. He wasn’t too surprised that whatever had passed for dinner or lunch the previous day had decided to leave him the wrong way. Though he couldn’t remember it, he had definitely indulged in the spirits and the pounding in his head and the pain in his stomach reminded him that every piece of release brought with it a steep price to pay.

When he finally straightened up for the first time that morning everything swam around him for a long time. He thought idly about cleaning a couple of the window panes so that some light could stream into the room and he immediately needed to sit down because he had been exhausted by the very thought of exerting himself.

He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand over his face and realized that his beard was approaching a state most would agree to call ‘full-bodied.’ He considered brushing his teeth and felt that urge to sit again. When his eyes fell upon the dog his face screwed up in disgust at seeing the pooch licking up the remains of his last dinner.

He got onto his knees and leaned forward so that the dog was aware that his master was in his space before he said, “You’re eating my puke? What are you, like the stupidest dog in the world?”

The puppy ignored him.

He waved dismissively at the dog and went to look out the dirt-darkened window, “Of course you are. You peed on me!”

Outside it was another day, sunny and indifferent to the lonely guy waiting for what was left of his life to be snuffed out. As he liked to say, mostly to himself and sometimes to the dog, “Let alcohol finish what heartbreak started.”

Comments