Drunken Stupor

An invisible nothingness presses down on me, as I try to wipe the heaviness from my eyes. A metallic smell wafts up my nostrils. Goosebumps spread, like falling dominoes, down my spine and back up my chest. The hairs on my cheeks stand at attention and this realisation triggers another wave of hot shivers down to my toes. I feel moisture spread all over my body, causing dark blue patches on my turquoise blouse. The magaritas creep up my throat. I have to puke. But I cannot leave my temporary prison, held in place by an unyielding seat belt.

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