Aftermath

New Years Eve is an excuse for the whole world to party and I love parties. Sometimes I love them a little too much.

Being a witch does not make you immune to hangovers.

I woke up with my brain trying its best to escape from my head. I groped around and discovered a warm lump next to me in bed.

Now I'm no prude but there are many things and people that I would rather not do. I held my breath and flipped back the blankets expecting the worse. But instead of Quasimodo or even Brad Pitt I found a huge pile of lacy under garments.

I stared at it for a while. Its heat could only mean that all of these panties, bras, slips, knickers, and stockings had to each have been a person not too long ago. I searched my pounding mind trying to remember who they might have been, but I simply came up blank.

"I hope Circe's not in here. Or, I'm going to be in the dog house.... literally." I then decided not to care and passed out again.