THE DRUNKEN REGENT
Even the tweeting of the birds made Joanne’s head pound. A thud here, and a knack there, went on continuously in her head, almost like a metal smith was welding a sword in her skull. She stood up, and then swayed sideways uneasily for a bit, before she glanced up, noticing the sky looked too close to her, its streams of light penetrated her eyes making it blinding to see, so she blocked it with her arms, while sneaking a peak at the clamored clouds.
She wanted to walk it off, so all the splitting agony would go away. So she tried to walk, but was only staggering. She had to take it one step at a time, because that's what hangovers are for, slowing down. . . and as she tried to take a step further, she discovered that there was no place for her to go anymore, she found
