SERIAL, writing

SERIAL NO. 3; The Films

Last night, Austin partied until she passed out, and when she came to this morning, the only things she recognized were her panties (somehow now hanging on the ceiling fan), her shoes (only the left one was to be seen. Where was her right one?), and the envelope of-

Goddamn, the films. She totally forgot to take them to Wal-Mart.

This morning, the only things Austin recognized were-

Wait. This train of thought again? Let’s make a checklist of things Austin did not recognize:

  1. The bed. Whose bed is this?
  2. The curly haired beardo drooling on the pillow next to her head (are those lashes real? No way.)
  3. Why is there a square foil packet taped to the inside of my thigh?
  4. Actually, come to think of it, those are not my panties up there on the fan. Oopsies.

Currently Austin is standing with her feet more than shoulder width apart, wait, now all her weight is shifted on to her left leg, as she leans to the farthest edge of the counter, and swipes the last rogue photo into the envelope. She swivels around with a flourish, almost slamming right into Daisy, who says-

Read Part 1 here.


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