Aftermath
Aftermath by Nicole Larson My head was pounding–absolutely pounding–when I woke up. A spear of sunlight had shot through an errant slat in my vertical blinds and lanced right into my eye, waking me up. The pain was close to unbearable, but I didn’t have the strength to stand, or even move, other than to drape a hand over my eyes. I told myself to go back to sleep. Too early to deal with a hangover, especially one of the epic proportions this one seemed to be taking on. It was as I was falling...