He had a beard growing and dark circles under his eyes, his hair spiked out in all directions, as he shuffled barefoot in a pair of ratty jeans. No shirt of course. I was starting to think I was going to have to buy him a pack of T-shirts for my own sanity. “What’s up?” he said, his voice sounding like he’d spent the night swallowing rocks. He gave a wet cough that made my stomach turn. I wasn’t feeling all that fabulous, and the phlegmy sounds he was making weren’t helping. “Hey.” Flopping in a chair, I debated what to eat. “Want some coffee?” “No, it’s too hot for coffee.” “It’s good for a hangover though, of which I have one.” He leaned with his elbows on the counter and rubbed his forehead aggressively. “Did I really kill a fifth of Jack?” “Except for what you threw against the door, which wasn’t that much.
What do You think about Sweet: (Intermix) (True Believers)?
