Ficlets

It Happens Sometimes (sequel to my six word memoir by request)

I couldn’t find my pants anywhere.

Why did I smell like patchouli?

Someone had turned the water on.

What did I do last night?

Why is he wearing my pants?

Hey, those are my pants buddy.

No, I don’t want your pants.

I start to cry vodka tears.

Everything is a smoking, hazy fog.

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