Something disturbed my slumber and I jolted awake; my head flying up with arms ready to defend myself from the threat. It was just the house. I was at my studiomate’s house.
I enjoy mornings like these. Instead of a hangover, I wake up from a deep slumber as if I died the night before. Something decides each time that I am not ready to leave the Earth yet and pulls my consciousness from the bottom of the ocean. I don’t seem to mind.
Water. I need water.
I looked around the living room for something to quench my thirst. The only thing next to me was my half-finished watermelon four lokos. I took a sip. The flavor brought back memories of the night before. We had a bonfire and quite a few people came. I stayed up with my dear friends until we ran out of firewood and the fire died.
I check my phone. 6:30. Perfect. I need water.
I collect my things and walk out. The sun greets me as I step into the peaceful morning. I walk a half mile in the middle of the road covered in dirt, alcohol stains, and reeking of fire. I look like Tarzan in a Canadian tuxedo. With my four lokos in my denim jacket and new trusty literati bag in tow, I walk to water. Another day of consciousness and I am not going to waste it.