Brian should have known better than to expect coherence as John continued to fumble through the dirty bedclothes. They’d been in the dark and dingy room now for three full days, Brian noticed light turn to dark thrice. John’s agitation was all the time increasing. Brian was becoming worried.
“Where the fuck is it?” screamed John, his bloodshot eyes bulging in Brian’s direction.
“Where the fuck is what?” asked Brian in as controlled a manner as he could manage.
“The dope”
“We finished that three hours ago. Did you find your phone?”
John stared fiercely at Brian with a mixture of confusion and madness swimming around his face.
“Oh yeah, I lost my phone.”
John stood and peeled the top blanket off the bed, folded it and placed it neatly against the wall. He continued with the rest of the bedding in the same way until all of the sheets were stacked on top of each other. They sat in a damp pile on the floor. The dampness was a mixture of urine, beer, vomit and spit. Brian knew the binge had gone on for too long this time. They were getting worse.
Wasted (Extract)
