Danu by T L Harty

Author:T L Harty [Harty, T L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-08T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12- Lift Off

My eyes, even at a squint, were a portal for the morning sun’s pain. I had heard tales of hangovers, but never experienced one first hand. I felt fine before going to bed, but now my head was pounding. It took a while to realize that all the moaning assaulting my ears was, indeed, my own.

Grammy was setting things down on my night stand. It was hard to make out the items because my eyelids were at half-mast. She put a cold wash cloth on my forehead, helping to alleviate the discomfort.

“You need to get yourself together, Muriel,” Grammy said. “We have to arrive at the airport by noon, and it’s already nine.”

Slowly, I inched my way up to a sitting position. The washcloth fell into my lap. It was easier to make out the scene around me, once upright. Grammy was in full nurse mode. She was bouncing from one side of the room to the other. My mouth was dry, but there was some water on my nightstand. A few sips made it possible to speak.

“Why do I have a hangover?” I asked. “I was OK before going to bed last night.”

“Alcohol dehydrates you,” Grammy said, handing me a pill. “When someone gets dehydrated, they get headaches, feel nauseated, and experience dry mouth.” She picked the washcloth up and ran it under some more cool water before returning it to my forehead.

All the symptoms Grammy mentioned were present. I took the pill and continued to sip water. A shower would help wash away the misery, so once the aspirin had a chance to make a dent in the headache, the bathroom would be my next stop.

It took a couple hours of Grammy’s nursing before I felt half-way decent. The thought of flying, while feeling like this, was not a welcome one. It would be imperative to grab some barf bags on the plane.

While collecting my clothes for the shower, the piece of paper caught my eye. It had slipped my mind completely. I quickly shoved it down in my suitcase, under all my clothing.

It was a balancing act trying to figure out which outfit I could wear on the flight home. It had to pass Grammy’s appearance standards, but still be comfortable enough that I didn’t feel like ripping the clothing off of my body. I decided on a loose-fitting pantsuit I had purchased in London.

The shower was soothing, but it wasn’t long until the sweating returned. Grammy and I inspected the room, making sure we had gathered all our belongings. As we were securing our suitcases, I slipped the piece of paper in my pocket. Perhaps during the flight, there would be an opportunity to look at it. Although, in my warped reality, I was oddly at peace if the plane went down in a ball of flames, and I never laid eyes on what was on the paper. Not for the reason of having lost my curiosity, but so my head would stop hurting.

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