Ole staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Swen.
He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife,
He tiptoed quietly toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged
the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.
A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Ole sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the now almost empty box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Ole woke up with searing pain in his head and butt and
She said, "You were drunk again last night, weren't you Ole?"
Ole said, "Why you say such a mean ting?"
"Well," Lena said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the
bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the downstairs mirror."
Yaaaayyyy!!! People I found it!! I'm so glad this wasn't corrupted in my pen drive! Hope you guys enjoy the read, and moreover, the ficticious memories! :) 24/ May/ 09 Chi looked at the computer while transferring her pictures to the pen drive. She had the expression one would have when they saw a picture of their dog after long. However, it was obviously misinterpreted by me. She was actually disgusted with the way Ranka sang. It was a pity that he sat next to her while he listened to his music. She had to listen his besura voice. Often she’d come along complaining. And the hours of stress and prolonged exposure to the computer screen made us go out for walks or to drink some water. One of those days, Chi turned left and slapped Ranka right across the face. He looked right, and asked stupidly – “What?” She raged with the utmost disgust and self-pity. “Your voice sounds like a rat being killed.” “So?” he asked. She didn’t know how else to make him stop. They were the nights I’d...
Comments