RE: Welcome to Masonland
12-13-2016, 01:36 PM
For the next half hour, or hour, or however many minutes are passing, you agonize over what might happen. What if you get so sick you miss work; what if you end up being fired before you even start your job?! Whatever the outcome, you know you're never accepting food from Farmer Brown ever again.
--
It takes a while, but your stomach is starting to quiet down. You wipe the sweat off your brow, take a few deep breaths, and attempt to stand up. As you're pushing yourself back up, you feel a slight burst of energy. Maybe you'll be OK after all.
Once you're back on your feet, you attempt to stumble out of the bathroom.
About five steps afterwards, the rumbling comes back in full swing and you begin to feel your midnight snack rise up in your throat.
You turn back towards the toilet as fast as you can, but, to put it bluntly, you don't quite make it.
Great, just great; your limbs are shaking so hard you feel like you're going to collapse any second, there's no way you can clean this mess on the floor right now. You open your medicine cabinet to see if there's anything that can help soothe your stomach, but the only thing you've got in there is a chewy pill for diarrhea, so you take one.
You can't stand to be in the bathroom any longer, so you take a trashcan out to your bedroom, holding the can close to your body. You fall onto your bed with a sigh of relief and, with a quivering hand, grab your phone.
It's times like this you wish you didn't live alone. You've got to call someone, but who?
--
It takes a while, but your stomach is starting to quiet down. You wipe the sweat off your brow, take a few deep breaths, and attempt to stand up. As you're pushing yourself back up, you feel a slight burst of energy. Maybe you'll be OK after all.
Once you're back on your feet, you attempt to stumble out of the bathroom.
About five steps afterwards, the rumbling comes back in full swing and you begin to feel your midnight snack rise up in your throat.
You turn back towards the toilet as fast as you can, but, to put it bluntly, you don't quite make it.
Great, just great; your limbs are shaking so hard you feel like you're going to collapse any second, there's no way you can clean this mess on the floor right now. You open your medicine cabinet to see if there's anything that can help soothe your stomach, but the only thing you've got in there is a chewy pill for diarrhea, so you take one.
You can't stand to be in the bathroom any longer, so you take a trashcan out to your bedroom, holding the can close to your body. You fall onto your bed with a sigh of relief and, with a quivering hand, grab your phone.
It's times like this you wish you didn't live alone. You've got to call someone, but who?
Hello, Eagle Time!