Autumn Changes by B.G. Thomas

Author:B.G. Thomas
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2015-04-12T23:00:00+00:00

THE WEEK had been a crazy one. Days at the Meridian were rough due to lots of business. The hotel was hosting three different conventions.

And then there were the evenings.

Rehearsals.

For Drunks.

A lot of the scenes were bothering Asher. It was like, since the afternoon talking to Peni, the play had transformed into something… else. It hadn’t, of course. It was the same play, same lines, same words. The same damned words.

But now….

What had been funny and crazy and over the top (and yes, brilliant) now seemed….

What?

Asher couldn’t put his thoughts into any logical order he could make sense of, let alone think of communicating with anyone else.

He only knew the play wasn’t turning out to be very enjoyable. It was making him… well… think too much.

Like the opening scene of act two. A scene he wasn’t even in!

Lights up. Cataclysmic mayhem. The floor of the room is strewn with empty beer cans, towels, paper products, wine bottles, liquor bottles, clothing, and debris of all sorts….

Focus on beer cans, wine bottles, liquor bottles….

Focus.

On beer cans, wine bottles, liquor bottles!

Why, only the last thing he wanted to focus on right now.

But it was more than that….

And then there was Guy.

“Remember, everybody! Save your booze bottles. No recycling until after the show. Tell your friends. We need beer cans and empty bottles. That means you, Asher! I know I can count on you!”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Why could Guy count on him for empty booze bottles?

Then there was one of his lines. “Oh, it’s disgusting and moist back here.”

Referring to the scene when he looks over the back of the set’s big couch and finds a bunch of vomit. He quite suddenly couldn’t get the image of a morning a few months back when he’d woken up to find his own vomit (at least he supposed it was his) on the floor next to the bed. The thing was he couldn’t remember puking. And then there was more in the bathroom. He’d seen that more than once, of course, but on the bedroom floor?

Then he couldn’t help but wonder why he’d thought of course about how he’d seen puke in the bathroom.

Had he gotten used to that?

When had he gotten used to a puked-up bathroom?

How had he gotten used to it?

He hated puke. He could remember nearly losing his cooking when he saw the movie Stand By Me the first time and it got to the scene where countless characters were barfing during the big pie-eating contest. The very thought of vomit was enough to make him gag.

Or at least it had been.

When had he gotten used to vomit?

Thoughts like these were affecting his acting. His role depended on him being nonchalant about such stuff—but he was suddenly having trouble finding that place, playing that character.

And on top of that, he kept thinking about the fact that Peni had called him an asshole. He couldn’t stop. It would just sneak up on him at the oddest moments. Right during a transaction with a guest at the Meridian.

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