Lifting his heavy head from the damp pillow, a thousand drums struck a steady and never ending beat through his mind. Grounding his fists into his sleep encrusted eyes, he squinted toward the table and spied the empty bottle of whisky balanced precariously on the edge of the table. Snippets of the night before stirred through his brain, memories humming around the shattering noise of the drums.
Looking past the empty bottle he spied the austere face of his wife staring stoically back at him.
At that moment he realised that this hangover would be a picnic compared to the wrath of his Florrie.
Standing she hurled something at him, "Put your pants on Ralph, or Bob or whoever the heck you are going by this week. Change is coming."
As he watched her stalk from the room with a sinking heart he realised his mistake, as always too late.
"It's a new year today and I've managed to start the year by right royally screwing it up" he muttered angrily at himself.
Sighing he pulled his sorry body from her bed, pulling on his pants and walking in time to the drums in his head, to face the music awaiting his downfall.
I had every intention of linking up to #WIPflash after much prodding by a certain little dove last night. Then I couldn't submit my comment from my iPad due to spam issues & it was too late to turn the computer on, you know - excuses, excuses, excuses! I missed this mornings cut-off by 2 hours *sigh* sometimes I hate time differences between countries. Rather than mope about it, I'm adding my piece here and adding it to the flash fiction pile in my story to be expanded on when I get small snippets of time.