Hoping to get off to an early start today but my damned July expenses have got in the way, not a lot of money but not to be sniffed at. So thanks to Rochelle for keeping this show on the road, from your photograph and historical post I’m guessing this is Vegas, but having never been there, and no desire to go I’ll have to just blag it and probably come up with some generic pithy tale!
On My Marks…
Sticky cheek against Cheap Poly-Satin; the first indication that all was not well. There Gastric and Bile Rainbow arcing from the bed edge to the floor and wall.
He’d been sick which was no surprise, but his cheek was sore as he reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes. Focusing, he saw a brown stained pillow, another rub and raised tender crustiness on his cheek.
Only a suggestion of a mirror in the bathroom.
At Breakfast he caught sight of his face in the polished tarnished lid of the scrambled egg buffet dish.
“Who the Fuck was Ruby?”
There we are, 100 words of a misspent night out in Vegas, tattoos and all!