Porcelain Sunrise

Short Fiction

Photo by © Andrea Curran All Rights Reserved

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

I wake to cold porcelain against my cheek. My face feels hot; the coolness almost comforting. There’s a buzzing in my thighs and buttocks, like a low hum vibration. One hand curled up in my lap, the other stretched around my head holding on. More porcelain. Head fuzzy, I begin to stir and lift my head. That’s when the smell hits me, acrid, sharp, and then a musty undertone of piss. Man piss. Wait… where the fuck am I?

I begin to stir and there is an audible squish as my face becomes unstuck from the porcelain beneath me. My head turns to see the still water beneath my face. Foggy with vomit. Shit… this again. I reach up with the hand from my lap and flush. Maybe that will help the smell. The humming in my legs has become like small lightning bolts as feeling begins to return. Pain becoming unbearable, I stretch out my legs to the side, laying flat on my back. Popcorn ceiling above me, and … what is that. No glasses, just a peach blur in the distance.

I try to lift my other arm, the one that was under my head. It flops around fishly, not quite responding to my requests. I fling it upward and it smacks the peach blob. A grumbling comes from inside the tub.

“What the fuck dude, let me sleep.”

That’s one mystery solved. That sounded like Brent, at least I’m not here alone. The lightning bolts in my legs turn to intense pain and I curl to the side into a fetal position. As I writhe in pain, the piss smell hits me again. I open my eyes and there it is, a puddle spreading from the outside of the tub. Animals, why not go outside? I open my mouth to see what condition my vocal cords are in. My throat feels thick with phlegm and bile.

“Brent,” I croak. “Brent, where the fuck are we?”

Nothing…. Okay. On my own. Goosebumps run down my flesh from my neck to my belly. I glance down noticing one breast fully exposed from the top of my tank top. No hoodie in sight. Fuck….

“Okay I can do this…. one . Two… three.”

I turn myself onto my hands and knees. Grabbing the counter I pull myself up. There is a … substance. It reminds me of grabbing my nephew’s hand after he’s just blown a giant snot rocket into it and let it dry. Sticky and crunchy all at once. With a fine layer of what can only be hair. I just hope it’s from a beard.

Okay… I’m up. The mirror is caked in grime. Probably for the best. My face looks almost pretty in this light. Mascara smeared and lipstick stains left around the mouth. I hoist my tank top back over my breast. I hold myself there for a time until I feel confident that my legs will hold me. I try the tap… nothing. My face is tight from the drying refuse from last night’s party? Was it a party? How the fuck did I get here?

Okay. First thing first. Hoodie. Keys? Wallet? Phone? There’s no knob on the bathroom door. A memory tries to flash and then it’s gone. Did we break into the bathroom or, was it already like this?

I look in the tub before I leave. Brent is happily sleeping, my hoodie squished under his head like a pillow. I grab the sleeve and pull hard. The hoodie comes faster than I would expect. Brent’s head drops and bounces, sounding almost like one of those kick balls from middle school gym.

“Ahh shit,” he says, grabbing his head.

“Ah sorry man.”

“Sssnothin,” he says and rolls over the other way. He knocks his knees hard in the stained tub trying to curl into the fetal position. “Fuck I’m so thirsty.”

I open the door from the bathroom. There are bodies outside the door. They grumble and groan as I place my feet between them, trying to make it to the kitchen. I don’t recognize any of these. One woman there completely topless, her shirt covering her legs below her micro skirt. The skirt pulled up in the back showing her candy apple red thong.

I find my way to the coffee table. There’s a glass with liquid in it, smell check, check for cigarette ash, looks good. Yesterday’s Dr Pepper. I drink deeply then sputter. Oh fuck, gin. Whatever, at least I have a cup. I grab a half smoked joint from the ashtray and a lighter and take my cup to the kitchen, turn the tap… nothing. Okay then.

There’s a green and silver refrigerator that looks like it has been in use for a solid 50 years. I open it, the air coming out is moderately cool… half a stick of butter in the very center of the empty middle shelf, comes with one dose of penicillin. A bottle of promethazine and codeine lays leaking on its side in the butter drawer. One bottle of ketchup, 3 packets of mayo, 2 Busch beers. Not even any chasers left. If my car is here I probably have some 6 month old bottles of mineral water in the wheel well. I see a hoodie laid out on the back of the couch, I put it on and step into the cold dewy morning air.

The light is still muted with fog. Looking around I realize I definitely have no idea where I am. There are a few cars but not many. I look around, find mine, it’s unlocked thank goodness. I open the glove box. Keys are there. I contemplate if I drove here or if someone else did. I find a half full water bottle in the cup holder, I take a swig and spit it out on the ground outside the car. I pour some over my face and rub with my hands, washing off my hands in the process. Then I drink the rest in one swig. Acrid, tangy, my mouth feels like it’s been stripped with acetone.

I sit in the driver’s seat, left leg propped on the open door frame. I try the lighter… nothing. I rummage through the floor of my car, 6 inches deep with empty soda cans, the bottom layer a fine garden of marijuana stems and seeds. Ahaha finally. My good lighter. I light the half a rillo and take a big drag, immediately I’m coughing. Thick mucous making its way up and out. Suddenly I’m alert. Mmm relief washes over me, and I start to relax.

I can see the sun starting to peak out over the horizon through the copse of thick oak and bushes. Maybe a morning walk to clear my head. This house isn’t familiar to me but the land is gorgeous so I begin to walk.

Before I know it I find myself at the end of a small shallow creek. The water is moving fast over smooth pebbles. It looks so cool and refreshing. I sit down, putting my still bare feet into the cold water. I finish my cleanup job, splashing the icy water over my face, hands and finally my pits. I finish the rest of the weed and then sit. Listening to the brook speak its early morning language.

Across the brook I notice movement, I slowly look that way curious and meet the large black eyes of a young doe. I turn my face so that she doesn’t feel threatened and watch her from my purview. She is scared but also thirsty, she slowly approaches, never taking her eyes off me. Finally she lowers her head, glancing up at me periodically as she slowly laps water. Then she turned to her side, her taupe and white fur slightly shining in the dawn light. Then she walked back into the woods with one final glance.

My heart lifted, calm settling deeper into me. The sun beginning to warm my face, I sigh.

“Today’s gonna be a damn good day,” I say… “well just as soon as I figure out how to get back to town.”

My stomach grumbled in agreement.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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I’ll leave the light on for you! Much Love — Andy