October 31, 2014

The Mulligan

I didn't finish my Halloween story in time. Instead, here's one I wrote years ago that seems to fit.

The Mulligan

This hangover was going to make a day of it. How she let herself get talked into shots was too nauseating to recall. Besides, she so knew better. Was anyone else as sick? Of course, none of them had the job or early meetings. She carried a lot of responsibility at the firm and client screw-ups didn’t go unnoticed. Her lost commissions made more work for co-workers already living one check to the next.

“You idiot.” Loathing punched around her headache as she patted “Pure Radiance” concealer under roughed up eyes. And so much for cutting down on the cigs. What was that, over a pack smoked from happy hour til closing? “Lord, just get me through this meeting.”

Settling into the car and waiting a beat for all motion to please stop, a weight pushed hard on her chest. Unsure, she looked down accusingly at the seat belt and tensed up. When it eased a few moments later, she inhaled deeply and swore to herself, “OK! From now on I’m off all the junk.” Turning the key, a second weight crushed down such that she impulsively released the belt.

And waited.

As with most sudden scares, there was an aftershock of heart pounding. Her queasy stomach rejoined immediately, signaling that some manner of vomiting was now probable.


“Shit.”

She began to rehearse yet another sick day call, convincing herself she was, “Off the damn hamster wheel and going to behave.” The actual call, barely begun, was cut short by shooting pain into the neck. Yanking down the rear view mirror, her expression gave no comfort as her head thudded against the headrest. Her gaze, frozen, saw only a widening dark spot.

The mulligan went, instead, to her co-workers at the firm.

2013's story: Happy Halloween