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| This is an unfinished piece, which I am hoping to develope further one day into a short story to be added to a collection. I hope then once that collection is finished to have it published, but with the way things are at the moment trying to get an agent or publisher interested in my work is just as hard as trying to find a girlfriend. Anyway here is the extract from the intended story. From the first two pages you don't really get an idea of what the story is about, it is more an introduction to the main characters and the world they live in. It also gives you a chance to view and critique my writing style rather than try to guess what the story will be about. Perhaps at a later stage once I have written some more of the story I will get it posted. Sunday 12th March 2006 Of course me and Deano had our fall outs. He’s me best mate. We were just like a married couple without the lifetime of hassle and regret (very cynical of me) I woke up that Sunday morning with the bed sheets glued to my naked body. I had a pounding headache along with a mouth as dry as the Sahara. With every effort I had within me I managed to roll over and fuck me. No I hadn’t done the unthinkable. I hadn’t woken up next to The Elephant Man’s sister convinced the night before after twenty pints that she’d give Abi Titmuss a run for her money. It was worse. I had rolled over face first into a puddle of vomit. ‘For fuck sake.’ I sighed, but it could only have been my own. I must’ve done it in the night without realising. Shit I could’ve fucking choked to death. I checked underneath the bed sheet and luckily found no more. I’d not shit myself either. Thank fuck. It was a consolation I suppose. I peeled the sweat sodden bed sheet away from my body and stumbled out of bed looking around me to see a mountain of dirty laundry on the floor and my CK jeans and shirt from the night before. I could also see my wallet that had been left open showing no visible notes. I must've spent every last penny I had. Not surprising really. I couldn’t remember fuck all. In fact at one point I had to check to see if I’d woken up in my own house and it wasn’t until I saw Miss Titmuss smiling at me from the bedroom wall that I was convinced I had. I walked wearily across the landing and into the bathroom to wash the sick away from my face that had now started to dry forming a second layer of skin. My face now could’ve been mistaken for a pizza, but in my current state of health I didn’t give a shit. Thank fuck hangovers are only terminal to alcoholics. I don’t think I’ll ever lean from my mistakes. No matter how many times I’ll tell myself that I won’t ever drink again the morning after a heavy night I always end up going back on my word. I’m only twenty-six after all. I’m bound to do stupid things that I’m later likely to regret. It’s all part of growing up as a young male in modern Britain. I couldn’t bare to look at my face in the bathroom mirror. I washed my face two or three times in cold water hoping it would awaken my senses and dried myself gently on a nearby towel. The feeling of its softness on my face was a momentary relief that I could’ve drifted off there and then. I placed the towel back upon its rail and turned to walk back out onto the landing before the sickness hit me again. There in front of me was a slivering slug like creature completely unrecognisable sat still on the edge of the bath. It was flat however with a shiny blue rubbery skin. I must've been completely oblivious let alone still out of it. I was convinced at first that this creature was actually crawling along the edge of the bath, but no in actual fact it wasn’t. And this blue slug in actual fact wasn’t a slug at all. Finally I realised. ‘For fuck sake!’ I shouted. I found the nearest thing I could find to a stick and picked the offensive object up allowing it to dangle from the end. I ran down the stairs and into the living room still completely bollock naked and there he was still fully clothed with his head and eyebrows shaved and “pretty boy†written across his forehead in red felt tip. Deano was lying there with his head hanging off the edge of the sofa. It took a few seconds to register as to whether he was still alive or not. Oh yeah the bastard was still alive and not only was he still alive, but upon looking at him with contempt I happened to notice a dark patch around the groin area on his jeans. The dirty bastard had pissed himself. I ran into the kitchen and quickly picked up a pint glass from the draining board and filled it up with cold water from the tap. I then walked back through into the living room and threw the contents over Deano’s face. Immediately he woke up and landed on the floor from his precarious position on the sofa. He rubbed his eyes and sat up against the sofa before realising what had happened. ‘Alright Malcolm?’ Deano said rather wearily and like me must’ve felt even worse when I suddenly thrust the used Johnny in his face. He stood up straight away startled by my actions and almost fell over again. If he’d fell and broke the coffee table I’d have probably broke his legs. I don’t think he’d realised at this stage that I was stood in front of him completely naked or the fact that he’d pissed himself in his sleep. I felt pissed off with him. Okay I’d puked up in my sleep. These kinds of accidents happen, but this was my house so I could do what the fuck I wanted in it. Deano on the other hand was renowned for his little accidents. He knew he could not handle his drink, but still proceeded to drink heavily to the point where he lost control of all inhibitions and not just mental. No bloody wonder he didn’t have much success with women. They obviously thought it was like living with a two year old. Some women enjoy a bit of water sports, but in the right situation and not accidental. Right now Deano was in the firing line of one of my not so great moods and he knew exactly what to do in these situations. He still did not twig however and before long I was once again thrusting the Johnny in his face. I moved closer towards him and he backed away. Before long we had changed our positions as Deano began making for the front door. ‘Get the fuck out of my house you dirty bastard!’ I yelled. Deano was gone. I watched him out through the small window beside the front door before he disappeared out through the gate. It was then that I noticed some weird artefact sat in the front garden presumably from the night before. Oh fuck I thought and walked back upstairs to bed. As I said before we have our arguments. We give each other a hard time and he knows I can be a right cunt when suffering from a hangover. At the end of the day however we’re still the best of pals and if anything ever happened to him I think I would just kill myself. It’s just a love hate relationship that we have. Copyright © Adam Wright 2006 |
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