It would be a strange feeling not to remember what you did the night before. Many of us have been there. Some of us may have been there too many times. We will not discuss that. Enjoy Part 1 of A Night’s Sleep.
PART 1
Jennifer Melton woke up and grabbed her head. The light coming through the curtains was blinding her. It also made her head throb worse than it was. She could not remember what she had done to trigger a migraine. Was it something she ate? She could not recall. Was it someplace she had been? A bar? Not that could she could think of. Maybe it was stress at work. Work had been relatively stress-free that week.
She covered her eyes and thought about not getting up. She sighed and squinted and slung the blanket off of her. The fast movement hurt her head. Without considering how she would feel when she stood up, she put her feet on the floor. She feared if she thought about it too long, she would stay in bed. That would make her late for work. Then her stress-free week would end stressful.
She grunted when she leaned over and pushed down on her knees to stand. Her head went woozy. Her body swayed from side to side. She took a step forward and stumbled sideways. Although she tried to keep herself upright, she could feel herself going toward the floor. Her hands were flailing through the air. Hoping to find something to grab. The floor was coming at her and fast.
She managed to keep her head up as she hit the floor. Her body bounced three or four times in the air as it slid across the carpet. She stopped a few feet from the wall. Her body must have gotten turned around. She was headed toward the bathroom.
She immediately wanted to get up. But her arms and legs were not cooperating. They would not listen to her commands. They would not move. Her eyes were out of focus. A giant blur was all she could see. She laid there, trying to slow her breathing. Her breaths were too heavy. She just needed to calm herself and evaluate if she was hurt.
She wiggled her fingers and toes. Then she moved her arms and legs. Her vision was beginning to focus. Objects were coming into view. She could see small white carpet fibers along the carpet. The bed was clearer. So were the chairs. Now, if she could lift her head and get to her feet she would be okay. If not, she was in trouble.
Her husband was on a business trip. He would not be back until eleven that night. Her children were at her mother’s. They were not coming back home until late that evening. She had to get up. What if she had a concussion? That could create a severe medical problem.
She rolled over onto her stomach and felt nauseous. A giant wave of it swept over her. She gagged and stopped. Then without warning, vomit spewed from her mouth. It brought so much acid from her stomach it burned her throat. Without thinking, she inhaled to catch her breath. Liquid raced back down her throat. A new wave of nausea brought another wave of vomit with it.
This time she endured the acid burning her throat. She coughed and coughed. Careful not to inhale too deeply. “What the hell is wrong with me?” She cried. Her head was killing her. Pound! Pound! Pound! She could not hold it up any longer. It hurt. It hurt to hold her eyes open. Her shoulders were too tense. She eased her head down onto the carpet into the vomit and laid there.
I’ll see you in 2 days.
You may figure out this story before I see you. I hope not.
Take care,
Stephen Wallace
Stephen Wallace 