“I’ll take her home”, I heard a voice haze through my mind as my vision continued to blur.
Nothing was registering in my brain anymore.
I think I’ve had too many drinks.
The last thing I remember was laughing out of disgust and horror at the concoction in that red solo cup as it stood in the centre of the table surrounded by a circle of cards.
It was the result of too many kings turned over in the deck – my coffee and Bailey’s didn’t look all that great mixed with Tegan’s bloody ceaser and Lindsey’s import beer.
God I hope I don’t pick up that last king.
Or did someone already pick up the last King? I don’t think we’re playing king’s cup anymore. No we’re not.
Is everyone leaving already? What’s that taste in my m—oh God I did pick up the last King.
I have no idea what’s going on.
Someone latched onto my arm. I’m assuming it was the same person who said they would take care of her. Also assuming that her was me.
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