Soon, My Friend (Currently Editing)

Pope's Nose

I shaved my legs when I showered in the morning - actually spending quite a long time in the bathroom. I scrubbed body and face with a facial scrub and applied the best smelling body lotion.

The sky was leaden with overcast outside, but it was supposed to get sunny around noon.

The radio was weakly turned on in the background as I ate breakfast in the kitchen. Two ladies laughed and laughed, talked about demonstrations, rebellions and music from the 90s. I remembered most of the time with Harry from the day before and, er, not so much of the ride with Irvine home. But a lot of wine and some champagne wasn't the best mix, so of course I threw up before I went to bed.

Last night June had come home by herself for once. Sometimes she brought with her loads of people - some old friends or someone new she'd met through the night. I'd heard her go to the toilet, wash her hands for a long time and finally brush her teeth for barely a minute. Then she'd stumbled into my bed next to me with her shoes still on.

I tried to wake her up several times during the morning, but with no luck.

The one who sleeps does not sin, anyway, I thought, and let her be.

I sat by the old kitchen table with my legs gathered under me in a thin dressing gown, eating a piece of bread with some cheddar on.

My laptop was placed on the table in front of me and I scrolled down Harry's Twitter account while I drank my morning coffee.

Rubbish. Rubbish, was what he tweeted. Well, it was mostly just meaningless ones, y'know, some ridiculous ones and many completely random.

Then there were congratulations, links, a bit of PR, quotes and a lot of tweets saying thanks for different happenings and such.

June was suddenly up and looked at me wearing only her t-shirt and panties. She hid her face immediately as our eyes met.

"I can't believe you didn't wake me up, it's fucking two o'clock! I need seven hours of sleep, not twenty!" she cried frustrated.

She stopped walking and threw herself down on the sofa in the opposite end of the corridor. The blonde her hair of hers was a bit greasy and very tangled.

I took a bite of my bread before putting it back on the plate next to my laptop. I answered her by shrugging, was too busy with that bloody Twitter.

"I'm so madly hungover, I think I'm crying vomit..." she moaned as she stood up and stopped by me. Then she leaned over me and picked up my cup of coffee. I sent her an annoyed look as she drank from it.

"Well, I've certainly found something very interesting." I smiled tightly at her. Her upper body leaned over my lap and she looked at the laptop screen I turned to her.

She squinted her eyes, the screen light was too strong for her vomit-crying eyes. Some mascara was still around them - marks after the fun of the night before.

She read out loud, yet rather slowly: "You know that feeling when you.. suddenly find someone... you-you've looked for..? Wait, was this yesterday night?! Like - while you were there?"

I nodded eagerly at her.

"How strange! How cool! How awkward! How sweet!" she exclaimed everything in the same high-pitched voice. I scoffed.

"How was your night?" I asked her and put the laptop in front of me again.

"Ah, you know, same old shit... We went to this lad named David, and he was really handsome, but laughed at his own jokes, bad ones, as well, so.. We went home around four, I guess."