The girl next door

Last night was a blur, but the person lying in my bed is not.

I blink away the crud from my eyes repeatedly, hoping that when I open them again, she will disappear too, but she’s still there, and what’s worse, she rolls over, and her face I instantly recognize.

I tumble out of bed and scramble to the farthest corner of the room. She barely flinches. She’s nice and comfortable, while I’m brainstorming quickest ways off this planet.

I glance down at my waist and thank God I’m still wearing my shorts.

At least I didn’t get that drunk.

Let me know I'm not talking to myself.

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