theinkwell writing challenge | Lingering Thoughts

Light sheered past the curtains like a warm knife cutting butter.

Ah, fuck. What time is it?

With a quick glance at his watch, he realized it was already 2 pm. Not a good time to still be sleeping but his head hurt when he tried to lift it. Fuck, he thought to himself again. I went way too hard in the paint last night.

While working hard not to throw up, he got off his couch to close the curtains. As he stumbled towards his bedroom, he grabbed a bowl and some flower to help with the hangover.

He remembered little from the night before. Stacy had been there but all I can remember is her sitting next to a disco ball.

(Photo by cottonbro from Pexels)

They had gone to a house party together with hopes of celebrating the new year. The new year- he thought nearly interrupting himself- it was a new year today. "Rabbit Rabbit", he murmured to himself.

He went back to retracing his steps from the NYE festivities. Stacy and he had adventured out onto the town and found a good house party. Between the jello shots, keg, and drinking games, it all made sense why at 2 pm the next day the hangover was so bad.

That said, after about the 2nd round of drinking games, things started to go dim from recollection. The disco ball photo even didn't make much sense this morning, other than the unique nature of that beautiful gal, Stacy sitting on the floor with the ball in her lap.

Though much of the night before was a blur, there seemed to be a lingering thought still trying to form and find his place in the world.

It was as if thinking of this again, amidst a hangover, as if looking at your best friend's face but not recognizing it due to blurred eyes.

(Photo by Thiago Matos from Pexels)

As if you knew someone's face but you couldn't remember how? Or why?

Thinking about this intriguing conversation the night before, there was a vision of as if a camera was viewing overhead. Peering down from above, as if a fly were watching from its perch on the wall. Yet, the conversation was on mute- lips moving but nothing coming out.

Then it all came to, audible and full of color. The simple thought of watching the conversation triggered the conversation to be recollected.

"It's a simple equation." The girl below continued mid-stride. "Happiness rests between the cornerstones of hard work, gratitude, fulfillment, and a bit of perspective. It really can be that simple, from a high level. "

The others nodded in agreement at the crux of what they had been discussing.

With this thought, the memory came back in full remembrance. The group had fallen into a drunken philosophical debate about the meaning of life with happiness as a focal point. Through this conversation, the lady with large earrings brought together a cohesive reason as to why happiness should be the focal point.

He rolled over with these heavy thoughts on his mind and a tingle of a headache still pulsing in his head. He laughed to himself with the lingering thoughts fresh on his mind and bringing his hangover that morning a bit of unexpected value.