Chapter 21
My stomach felt like a swarm of spitfire caterpillars were trapped inside and my mouth felt like it was filled with dead moths. No more alcohol. Ever.
I closed my eyes again, willing the sensations to stop. Ten minutes later, I staggered out of bed and attempted to drown the imaginary creatures in a steaming shower. That helped but it took a couple of paracetamol, a hit of vitamin B and a double shot coffee to make me feel more human than surrogate bug mother. A fry up of eggs and bacon on toast helped soak up the last of the alcohol parasites and I spent the rest of the morning sipping water and watching Netflix.
My phone dinged with a reminder to bake the dog biscuits I’d promised to take to the RSPCA. As I dragged myself out of the lounge chair, the doorbell rang.
“Hi, Ed
