Drunken Wormhole 0

“Alcohol is the cause of and solution to all of life’s problems.” – Homer Simpson –

For James Arthur Gorman, it certainly started his problems. Gorman was invited out to a party to celebrate his recently published paper; not normally a drinker, the good news and lack of stress encouraged some indulgence. A whirling dance of images and sounds later, he wakes up to a pounding in his skull and on his door. Disoriented, he attempts to make sense of where he is. He’s on the ground, in a small space; reaching out his arms find the walls with ease. He can easily touch the four walls. Reaching up, he finds cloth above him. His hands continue to explore the room, eventually finding the something cold. It shifts and the wall behind him falls backwards, spilling him out into the light, burning into his brain. The image that floats above his tightly shut eyes is familiar to him, but somehow wrong. Then he realizes it’s wrong because while it’s his living room, it’s upside down. Except it can’t be, so he must be. The pounding continues, louder now.

His mouth opens and he tries to speak. The sound that comes out is incoherent, but the pounding stops. At least the pounding outside his head.

“James, are you in there? Open the damn door!”

James; that was him. He should answer. He should get up, and find water and pull himself together.

“James, we need to talk. What the hell happened last night?”

Last night – that was a blur. He tried to remember, but the images wouldn’t hold still. “I, we, celebrated…” his voice sounded hoarse but he was able to form words. “… I woke up in the closet. I’m about half way out so far.”

 

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