- Blake West:
I woke up to a hammering pain pulsing through my skull, like someone had taken a mallet and decided my brain was a drum set. The inside of my mouth tasted like carpet and regret, and my entire body felt like it had been packed into a too-small suitcase and tossed down a flight of stairs. The sunlight filtering in through the cracks of the curtains stabbed at my eyes, even though the room was mostly dark. I groaned, reaching for something—anything—to cling to as the world tilted slightly.
Everything was blurry. Too blurry. Shapes bled into one another and shadows moved even when I didn't. My hand flailed against the nightstand, knocking something over with a soft clink. I groped around until my fingers closed around the familiar plastic frames of my glasses. I shoved them on, blinking hard as the world came into focus. I don't even remember putting my glasses on the nightstand.
