Waking With Ghosts

Finding a strange couple in my living room was only the start of my bad day

Wow, that really must have been a good night. I wonder if he had both of us or if I had both of them.

Waking With Ghosts was first published in Redemption Magazine on Medium. If you are a Medium subscriber you can read it in full there by following the links.

Just in case you are reading this on the other side of the pond; some people in the UK often say, me, instead of my — as in, ‘I couldn’t find me knickers (panties)’. You are probably aware that when the British are not watching telly (TV) we like to visit the pub which is similar to a bar. If we come out of the pub pissed it does not mean we are angry or fed up — it means we are drunk. This can lead to us sitting down on our bum in the road.

Waking With Ghosts

I’m walking through me house — nude, which is normal for me because it’s nice to get a bit of air around the lady bits, not because I couldn’t find me knickers when I got up. I’m wearing me high-heeled shoes, the ones I call me glass slippers — I probably forgot to take them off last night when I fell into bed.

Anyway, I get to the living room and there’s a bloke in there crouching down looking in a bag. When he looks up I think, nice, that must have been a hell of a night last night — pity I really cannot remember it — perhaps I need to ease off on the brandy and ports a little. I wonder where I found him?

He looks a bit older than I normally go for, and a bit posh. Not the usual sort you get down at the Bell pub. Some of these older blokes go at it really well. I know I’m no spring chicken but I know me way around a man. I wonder if he is up for a rematch this morning — it would be nice to remember what it was like.