Untamed

The Road To Nothing is a saga.

Waking up, Andy’s hand had shot straight to his head which was searing with pain; he could feel it mostly around the back of his skull. His eyes half opened, he searched around himself to see where he was, and noticed a barstool toppled over, along with a few glasses near him smashed. It was obvious to him that he’d been in a bar, obviously drinking away his problems and had hit his head against a table and then the floor. His hand felt beside him, in attempt to get a solid grasp on his own stability, to bring himself back to his feet. His eyes shifted to a figure walking toward him holding a wet towel, he groaned and dropped to the floor again, not bothering to help himself up from the floor.

The figure kneeled down beside Andy, holding the towel out in front of him. The figures face was familiar, he knew that he’d see it before and it struck him that it was his bartender. Another groan escaped from his mouth as the bartender decided to administer the towel to Andy’s head himself, seeing as Andy appeared unable to do it properly himself. He felt bad to be placing such a task on his bartender; it shouldn’t have been his job to nurse Andy’s wounds merely because he came in for one too many drinks. He began to sit up, eventually pulling himself into a stance, although a somewhat unsteady one. A ten dollar note was pulled from his pocket and placed on the table for the barman, a sign of gratitude, Andy thought to himself.

Stumbling out of the bar with his hand pressed to his head, he quickly shielded his eyes from the blinding sunlight that beamed down onto him, penetrating his flesh. Every ray that touched him made him feel more sober by the second, and being able to think was something Andy didn’t want to be able to do at the moment. Moving his tongue in his mouth, he whistled for cab that was heading in his direction, throwing his arm out half energetically in attempt to ensure the driver noticed his call. The cab slowly pulled to the curve, stopping in front of Andy, the driver had a curious look upon his face and a somewhat worried expression flashed through at the same time. The driver wasn’t even sure if he should have stopped for Andy, he couldn’t afford having another ‘runner’ who didn’t pay and Andy’s appearance and state wasn’t a reassuring one.

Andy swung the back door of the car open and slumped into the seat, he wasn’t sure where he was going but at the moment he didn’t particularly care. His arm idly searched his coat pockets and took hold of a fair amount of money that he put there when he was too lazy to place it in his wallet. He tossed it at the driver softly and lay on the back seat closing his eyes, his head pounding, and the sun making the sensation worse. “412 Lancestor Road” he said to the driver; it was the address to his house and he’d figure he’d put in a few ‘family man’ hours in with his kids and his wife. Oh, sure, he was blind drunk but he figured by the time he reached home, he’d appear more in control. Andy knew that appearances can be deceiving. The driver nodded and began making the journey as Andy closed his eyes and began to slip back into unconsciousness.