Reminiscences of an evening past- December 30, 2009 (Act III)

Smoke billowed from the tall, lanky man’s nostrils; it was not without cause that the title “King of Smoke” attached itself to him during his exploits in Africa. His cool and deft handling of the hookah was mesmerizing to watch. The victim sat there with a blank look on his face as his brain tried to process the taste of apple flavored smoke which mingled jarringly with the bile in his mouth and nostrils, a token from his recent vomiting episode.

The quartet of men that comprised this party was sufficiently inebriated, the twenty three drinks they each had was too much for any of them to manage on a stomach deprived of solid food. It was a night for debauchery and all, but the victim, indulged in the evening’s festivities. The drunks left the watering hole to their iron carriage, the King would be driving and no one opposed.

*The scribe remembers little beyond this point given his ability to witness events was impaired sufficiently. Imagination fills in the holes left by alcohol induced memory loss*

The carriage rolled along at a sonorous pace along deserted boulevards, pleasures of the carnal type beckoned the spirits of friends who sought to favor the evening’s prize on the victim.

The King was aimless in his direction of the carriage and eventually decided manoeuvre it to the points of convergence near the vaunted symbols of the nation’s military pride. Vice was to be had and here was where it would be found. A slim androgyne emerged from the shadows; she was pretty and moved aggressively. She approached the carriage cautiously and looked in expectantly at the man and his companions- her price was 2000 to pleasure the quartet but her attention was directed to the victim.

The victim’s dulled senses were perking up as his brain raced to piece together the fragments of the conversation and images that came rushing in, the alcohol induced high was wearing off very quickly, his eyes flashed with panic, as he saw the portly man draw out a knife and currency and thrust it into the hand of the androgyne, there was an aura of wickedness and his muffled protestations failed to make an impact, the androgyne drew closer to the victim…..

Flashes of sodium vapor lights… nausea… laughing… pleads to go slowly…nausea…. Scabbard…queasy….. Gag… fresh air… relief… nausea…. zigzag …… pain…. Groin clenched… head out the window…. Vomit… blood… bile…cake…black….

An intense urge to urinate and bright sunlight greeted him as he woke up, his head pounded and burnt and vice versa, the taste of dried bile permeated his nostrils and taste-buds. It was tomorrow.