A Soloist
Jerry was more aware of his cracking headache than the layer of dehydrated saliva that coated his cracked lips. Once on his feet the room swayed almost causing him to lose balance and he reached out for the wall. His hand slipped along the high sheen paint and he sprawled onto the carpet with a crashing thump. The room swirled before becoming stationary again and he used the bedstead to pull himself to standing. This feeling meant he'd had some fun the night before but somehow it wasn't there in his memory. He smacked his lips and his stomach turned in an unfriendly way. A fry up was probably the last thing it needed but he was going to have one anyway. But first he had the stairs to negotiate. He dug his phone out of his jeans pocket to check it but there was no important message or a
- Writer
