Polished off his beer, tossed the bottle. Clink. A big pile rattled around on the passenger seat, dripping onto the upholstery. He didn't give a shit, though. Grabbed the last one and cracked it open. The car lurched forward. Shit. He wrenched the handbrake on. Fine. No problem. He shouldn't be driving, so he was told. Well, fuck 'em, he'd drive if he wanted. His head wasn't throbbing, not at the moment. He'd taken a real whack that night, though. Hell of a lump. "As big as an ostrich egg," the doctor had said. Young guy, neat beard, liked to grin. Phil had tried to sit up, but the doc eased him back down. "Not yet," the doc said. "Just going to take an x-ray." He showed his teeth. "Of the egg?" The doc didn't reply. Phil couldn't understand why the doc had lied. Ostrich eggs were massive and the lump on his head was never that big. Didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. Anyway, the swelling had gone down now. Phil slugged some more beer. His skull still felt tender but at least it was back to its normal shape.
