Ficlets

An Uncommonly Bad Day

I woke up with a pounding headache, either the vestiges of a hangover, or a harbinger of an awful allergy season. To be fair, it could be my punk rocking neighbor trying out his new riff at 6 A.M. I jumped off the top bunk, only to land on my rommate’s leftover pizza.
And of course, the phone rang.
I tried hopping over to the phone, which doesn’t work so well with only one foot available, in the dark, with a headache that could at any moment split open my skull.
“Hello?” I asked, in a tone that implied goodbye.

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