Dammit

If I went by symptoms alone, the most obvious explanation would be that I have a hangover. Smothering headache, scratchy joints, cotton-mouth... they're all here.

But I didn't have anything to drink last night.

That aside, last night was fun. Hors d;oeuvres, dancing (two hours of dancing, spread over about four hours of evening), interesting (and in large part attractive) people, and fruit punch that tasted as though it really should have had soda in it.

And now all my clocks are wrong. Hell of a party, that.

Pieces of me

Random little snippet of fiction, just over a thousand words long, written for mouseai; if you've read it there, there's nothing different here.

( It Was Only Then That We Fired The Chief Engineer )