Author: Pete Smith
I come to with a start. There’s a bell ringing. That’s not good. That’s never good.
Raising my head from the bar, I try to focus. Oh yes – it’s the… landlord chap. Land. Lord. I giggle like a child. He’s ringing time. I look at the clock, and indeed, it’s saying midnight. Shut up, clock; you’re not the boss of me.
I drain my glass and plonk it down heavily on one of the… round things. Beer mats! That’s it. I remember now.
I should go.
Off the bar stool. Whoah! The room spins a bit, but it’s nothing I’m not used to. The barman gives me a disapproving look. Cheeky sod. I knew his grandfather.
Stumble to the toilets. Almost go in the ladies. Get my bearings and shove open the door to the gents. Look at myself in the mirror. Bloody hell. Lean my head on the wall above the urinal and let out a very long… sigh.
I should really stop drinking. I know that doesn’t seem like such a big thing, not from the outside, but it’s difficult when you’ve seen all the shit I have. Death. Destruction. Attack ships on fire, blah blah blah.
I know. Into each life. But I’ve got about a dozen lives worth of shit bouncing around my brain at present, and sometimes you just need to find a way to let off steam.
Anyway.
Outside and the cold air hits me. I’d forgotten it was winter. I look up at the stars.
Feeling slightly less disoriented now, I wrap my scarf around me and head for the car park.
Round the corner I spy a familiar figure hunched over, throwing up in the gutter. Oh dear. He’s changed, at least – though not as much as I’d like. I pull my hat down over my eyes and quicken my pace, but he recognises me, of course.
He grabs feebly at my coat as I pass. “Please… stop” he slurs, but I ignore him and hurry past, as he knows I will.
I find my ride where I left it in the corner of the car park. Only one here so I’ll need to move it. Don’t want any trouble. Cold fingers fumble with the keys and drop them. Bloody hell. Bend down to get them and slip a little. End up with my back leaning against the blue door, breathing heavily.
I’m in no state to drive, but that’s okay. I’ll just… pop back for a couple. Yes. Not like I have a choice, anyway.
I know, I know. I drink too much.
The doctor said I should stop.
Ha bleeding ha.
Thanks for the comments. This is my first story so it’s great to get feedback.
If anyone’s interested, the idea with this story was to use the SF trope of a time loop as a metaphor for being stuck in a self-destructive addictive cycle, and also write a bit of “stealth” fan fiction (is that a genre?)
I didn’t want the plot or the protagonist’s identity to be too obvious on a first read, though I did try to leave plenty of clues. (I did worry that that the scarf, blue door and penultimate line may be too obvious but hopefully it’s subtle enough ;-). )
Thanks for reading.
Pete
Hard to capture drunk in words but I think this is pretty close. Well done. Extra credit for the Blade Runner reference.
Clever and well done. Made me chuckle.