Party, Party

Two possibilities:

my drink has been spiked
or
my glasses have fallen off.

I see blurry dancing.

A woman's arm. Bare. Raised.

I feel surprisingly calm. Happy.
In spite of the heat. The nausea.

Perhaps I can feel my way to the door.
Get some air.

Sorry madam, I didn't mean to touch you there.
Oh well, if you don't mind neither do I.

Oh but the heat. The double vision.
I...I think I'm going to pass out

side the air is cold, clear. Shocking.
Abruptly I am myself again. Drowning.

Stuff that!
I hurl my glasses into a hedge.

Tumble back into the party's swirl.
See blurred dancing.

A woman's arm. Raised. Bare.
Oh madam...



Writing copyright Bernard Young 2010