THE MONEY
The smell of stale sweat and vomit hung heavy in the air. The intense pounding in Marv's head forced him from his alcohol-induced slumber. The pain was horrible. It felt like someone was beating his head in with a hammer from the inside out. He rolled, turning his head and ending up face first in a pile of putrid vomit. Feeling his stomach lurch, Marv propelled himself from the bed and headed for the bathroom as fast as he could. He only made it to the doorway of his bedroom. Supporting himself by leaning against the doorframe, he leaned forward and emptied what little was left inside his stomach onto the already stained carpet. When he got done retching up bile and dry heaving, Marv slid to the floor. He leaned against the door frame and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Fresh b
- Writer
