Epiphany

I wake up at half past five in the morning, in the cellar. There is a dull thumping at the very base of my skull, which promises to develop into a truly incredible hangover within a few hours. Throw off several layers of blanket, struggle to sit up, and look over at the two motionless forms of The Medic and The Actor, who are occupying two thirds of the one mattress we are all crammed on. I must have fallen asleep roughly two and a half hours ago. Suddenly need to lie down again rather fast.

While dozing, it occurs to me with crystal clarity that I won't see my friends at all- not even once- when I am in Africa. Perhaps it is the remnants of the alcohol still in my system that makes me want to suddenly wake them up, hug them and tell them I love them.

I refrain. I know neither of them would really appreciate my sentiments at this moment in time.

I close my eyes and drift off again. Outside, the rain has stopped at last.