this morning #125.

this morning, laughter washed the blood away. she awoke to a bed covered in the stuff. sanguine-stained sheets. the cause of it wasn’t initially apparent. she tried to focus her eyes & looked down at her thighs. all clear there. with the blackout beginning to lift, she lifted her achy body from the bed, trying to recall the last thing that happened. she needed to find her glasses. her head & ass were killing her. right! she took one hell of a drunken tumble last night. tequila always gave her jelly legs. that’s when she felt it—a shooting pain on the back of her head. she reached back & gently patted at it. her hand got stuck in the matted mess. it was so bloody ridiculous. all she could do was laugh.