Post by Ewan Alexander Faulkner on Jul 3, 2010 9:23:47 GMT -5
Fuck me I’m hanging Ewan moaned to no one in particular as he rubbed his hands over his face , elbows resting on the small table before him. The coarse rasp of stubble on skin was not helping Ewan feel any better, if anything it only compounded his sense of regret over the previous night’s excesses. Still dressed in the clothes he had worn last night, with addition of a cheap pair of sunglasses he had lifted this morning, Ewan was suffering from one of those generic kinds of hang overs that just hit you with all of the symptoms. His head felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to it, is eyes burned like there was glass in them, he felt nauseous, tired and the light was still too damned bright, even behind the darkened glass of the shades. Basically, Ewan Faulkner felt like shit, looked like shit and smelled like...well as one could be expected to smell after a night out. That said, he reflected, it had been an amazing night in one of the loudest, cheapest and dirtiest clubs in Barcelona and what did he expect to happen after chucking back beer after beer chased by shots bought for him by a few locals who had somehow managed to get draw him into their drinking game.
Lifting his face out of his hands and positioning the purloined glasses back over his eyes, Ewan reached for his coffee and leaned back into the comforting embrace of the leather chair he had taken by the window. His seat gave him a view looking out over a busy London thoroughfare and he could not help but appreciate the improvement of his current locale to the one had awoken to that morning. By Ewan’s reckoning, strung together by his fuzzy memories of the previous evening, he had managed to teleport himself back to London. Although in truth he had missed his house that faced onto Regent’s Park and instead had ended up in Hyde Park on a rather cold and uncomfortable bench. Yet, in the long run he supposed he couldn’t complain too much, the walk wasn’t far and Ewan had hoped that he may exercise the hangover off; a plan that had failed miserably.
But here he was nursing his self pity as attentively as he nursed the coffee in his hands, all the while gazing out of the window, watching the people outside going about their own little lives without really seeing them. Ewan passed a handful of minutes away in this fashion, every now and then taking a sip from his appallingly sweet coffee before he stirred himself to reengage with the world. His eyes flicked to the newspaper before him, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he noticed the neat brown circle where his mug had sat before opening it before him. Ewan had forced himself into the habit of skimming through a paper first for any seemingly important articles before reading the articles properly early on, as he so often flitted from place to place, country to country he felt it necessary to keep up with present events as much as possible or it would be so easy to disconnect from the real world.
In the end though he gave up on the paper, the small print just swam before his eyes at the moment, and the rhythmic thudding in his skull wasn’t helping matters. So, instead Ewan just rested back in the plush chair and let the world pass him by, thankful that he had the day off work and musing on what he would do with his evening, quite oblivious to people going to and fro around him.
Lifting his face out of his hands and positioning the purloined glasses back over his eyes, Ewan reached for his coffee and leaned back into the comforting embrace of the leather chair he had taken by the window. His seat gave him a view looking out over a busy London thoroughfare and he could not help but appreciate the improvement of his current locale to the one had awoken to that morning. By Ewan’s reckoning, strung together by his fuzzy memories of the previous evening, he had managed to teleport himself back to London. Although in truth he had missed his house that faced onto Regent’s Park and instead had ended up in Hyde Park on a rather cold and uncomfortable bench. Yet, in the long run he supposed he couldn’t complain too much, the walk wasn’t far and Ewan had hoped that he may exercise the hangover off; a plan that had failed miserably.
But here he was nursing his self pity as attentively as he nursed the coffee in his hands, all the while gazing out of the window, watching the people outside going about their own little lives without really seeing them. Ewan passed a handful of minutes away in this fashion, every now and then taking a sip from his appallingly sweet coffee before he stirred himself to reengage with the world. His eyes flicked to the newspaper before him, a slight frown tugging at his lips as he noticed the neat brown circle where his mug had sat before opening it before him. Ewan had forced himself into the habit of skimming through a paper first for any seemingly important articles before reading the articles properly early on, as he so often flitted from place to place, country to country he felt it necessary to keep up with present events as much as possible or it would be so easy to disconnect from the real world.
In the end though he gave up on the paper, the small print just swam before his eyes at the moment, and the rhythmic thudding in his skull wasn’t helping matters. So, instead Ewan just rested back in the plush chair and let the world pass him by, thankful that he had the day off work and musing on what he would do with his evening, quite oblivious to people going to and fro around him.
