The Afternoon Before The Morning After The Night Before

“Well, this is shit,” she sighed, slumping down on one of the worn kitchen chairs in the corner of the vineyard, away from where everyone else was having such a lovely time, and kicking over the drink she’d left on the ground by her chair. “Oh, fuck it!”

“Calm yourself,” he smiled, “I’ll get you another drink.”

“Just forget it, it’s fine, it’s just a drink, I don’t care, I want to go home, this is shit,” she complained in one breath.

“We can go soon, don’t worry,” he sighed, “we just need to stay long enough to be polite.”

“Guh, I don’t know why he even invited me to his stupid wedding,” she grumbled. “Did he just want to rub my nose in it?”

“I expect he just thought he was being nice, you are friends, after all,” he suggested.

“Friends?! Friends?! Yes…yes, we are, but…you know full well that we’re more than that, always have been,” she sighed.

“Yes, but you’re still friends, and he wanted you here on his happy day, right?” He smiled one of those half smiles you give when you’re trying to be reassuring and helpful but know that your words are unlikely to help in any way.

“I…I don’t want him to be happy, though, it’s not fair,” she pouted.

“You don’t want him to be happy?” he looked puzzled.

“No, I want him to be fucking miserable until he realises that I’m what’s missing from his life!” She smiled as she said this, but it wasn’t a very pleasant smile.

“That’s…that’s not very nice…” he stammered.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m not very nice,” she frowned.

“Don’t be silly, you’re…” he started.

“Please, let’s not go there again, not today,” she cut in.

“Yeah, sure, fine,” he said as he swallowed his emotions.

“This whole thing is just one big, fucked up mess!” she exclaimed.

“Now, that I will agree with,” he smiled. “Look, we’re in a vineyard, we’re at a party, there is an unlimited amount of free wine…”

“So?” she looked blankly at him.

“So let’s get very, very drunk and do things we’ll both regret in the morning,” he laughed.

“Oh, shush, you,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Go get me some more wine!”

“You want a glass of red or white?” he smiled.

“White!” she shouted at him as he walked back towards the party. “And make it a bottle…or three!”

The following two tabs change content below.
Ian Sharman
Ian is a freelance writer and artist. He founded Orang Utan Comics Studio with Peter Rogers in 2006, writes for their Eagle Award Nominated anthology Eleventh Hour and regularly inks for Panini’s Marvel Heroes comic.
Ian Sharman

Latest posts by Ian Sharman (see all)

There are no comments

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Please enter an e-mail address