From WordBeads.
"It was that fourth double whisky", she thought to herself. No use saying it out loud as there was nobody to hear, and it would only hurt her head even more.
Trying to revise for her 3rd year medical exams, learning about nerve fibres, axons, nerve cells... She knew she should understand it, but her brain was barely working this morning.
Flashes from the previous night kept invading her mind. Did she really dance on the table at Sacred? Did she get off with K? And whose was that bike she'd been doing wheelies on by the canal? The canal?? What had she been doing there? Oh shit... She hated mornings like this. Mornings after.
She crawled back into bed. Maybe a few extra hours sleep would lift her out of the doldrums.
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Panettone: augmentative of the diminutive
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