As I mentioned last week, I’m giving myself a little bit of neccesary relief by way of drabbles on Fridays for a little while. This one is something I whipped up while telling drinking stories with the boys at work (don’t worry…this exact story did not actually happen to any of us!)
The first thing I noticed was the pounding headache. The second was that the air I was breathing was awfully stale and dusty-tasting. I tried to sit up, but my head immediately cracked off of something extremely solid.
Frustrated, and hungover as hell, I shifted around in the pitch-black, tight space in order to wiggle my BIC lighter out of my jeans pocket and into my hand. Lacking back and holding the BIC near my face, I flicked the little wheel to bring forth a flame.
I was inside a cheap wooden coffin.
“Ah shit. Not this again.”