Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Funhouse Mirror

90. Write a self portrait in which some aspect of yourself is wildly exaggerated.

James woke up, almost, but he got up in any case. A string of drool briefly connected his mouth to the arm of the sofa as he rose.
It couldn't be very late, the party was still going strong. He was just out for a few minutes. He had been talking with someone on the couch, some woman, when he passed out. He could remember asking her if she was shaved, but he didn't know how the conversation went from there.
James staggered gently accross the room, as always keeping his focus firmly focussed on keeping his cup firmly level, never mind that it was empty. It was the principle of the thing, if he could keep his cup level, then he could justify filling it again, at least to himself.