It’s 0430. I’ve been in that wretched limbo between drunk and hungover for about two hours. Finally got up to sit it out, downstairs. My little grimalkin is competing with the keyboard for my fingers. Oh goody, she let me snap a pic.
A purrfect companion
Why am I not asleep? It was like, the whole point of getting so deliberately shit-faced last night. I do it sometimes to induce a full-on breakdown, in a controlled way, so I can put myself back together the next day and get back to work. Only, it’s not going so good, this time. This time, I woke up in the middle of the night, caught between the act and its consequences. It doesn’t actually work, like this.
I’ve been trying to get back to Menelon. The way is shut.
I know why the gate slammed closed. I know why I’m in exile right now. It’s because I’m afraid, and because I’m grieving. I feel trapped. That’s got to be my task, this day.I’ve got to reopen the way. Somehow.
But probably not until I’m done puking my guts up.That’s just karma.
There are always prices to be paid. For acts of fear, and for acts of cowardice.
Grimalkin Crossing 