August 29, 2011
July 13, 2009
Jack woke up with a killer hangover after attending his firm's Christmas Party. He didn't even remember how he got home. It's 8.30. What day is it? Thursday. His wife must have gone to work.
couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a little vase of sweet peas, freshly picked from the garden. He sat up. The bedroom was clean and tidy, - there was no trail of drunkenly abandoned clothes, fresh air was coming in through the window and all was serene.
'I'll ring your office and tell them you won't be in today. Breakfast is in the oven. Try to eat something and go back to bed for the morning. There's snooker on TV this afternoon. Take it easy today, hope your eye doesn't hurt too much. See you tonight.. I love you, darling! Love, Jillian. x '
He stumbled to the kitchen and sure enough, there was hot breakfast, steaming hot coffee and the newspaper. His teenage son was sitting at the table, eating. Jack, bracing himself, asked his son what happened the previous night.
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