Falling into the hotel room, their lips finally crashed together, clumsily fierce, savage like their hands pushed and pulled at each other, their intoxication not giving them the smoothest of moves, but neither cared, the buzz that rushed through them suppressed any annoyance and embarrassment.
Pushing the man she knew as 'Kobina' onto the bed, Serena teased him for a moment or two, before smirking and walking away, in direction towards the mini bar, pulling out a small bottle of whiskey and a small bottle of gin.
"Here" She smiled, throwing him the whiskey bottle.
"Cheers" he replied as he caught it, "Mixing drinks, dangerous"
"It's only gin"
Necking the bottles as if they were water, they became entangled in each other once more, Ric's fingers running through Serena's silky long hair, she rested her hands on his chest, just allowing her lips to do all the talking.
A high lustrous charge, rocked around the room as, clothes soon began to find themselves thrown in various directions of the room, nails clawed, lips bit. Alcohol infused mumbles and drunken slips filled with laug...
That evening, as we lowered the lights, we thought we heard a quiet, muted humming of an old sailor’s song as the hallway floor creaked under what sounded like light footsteps.
"One whiskey for me 'an my friend" he muttered, sliding his glass across the counter towards the bartender.
...rned my head toward his,tucked my long brown hair behind my ear, took my face with both of his hands and told me that everything would be okay. Ben pulled my face to his a gently kissed my forehead and then pulled my head to his chest, which was warm, and strong.
This paper will share my reflection on Part One of the documentary entitled Weight of the Nation. I will also include what I took away from the movie while giving my personal insight into the topic of this part of the movie – “Consequences” involving children and obesity in the United States.
Later in his prison cell, soft music could be heard down the hall, then it became distorted and he heard a woman's voice screaming and sobbing. It was his wife. There were sounds a of a whip hitting flesh. This guard Dulgheru told Rich...
Once inside his sanctuary, he did not know what to do with himself, but vibrating energy fueled by jealousy and rage flowed through him, and it needed to stop. He let out an unrestrained roar, damn what those who lived close by thought of him. He paced. Charged to his wardrobe, tossed his clothing over his shoulder, then withdrew Alis’s hair combs. Dropped them and crushed them under his boot. Picked them back up. Flung them onto the floor. Upended his bedside table, which sent a clay mug spinning across the floor where it shattered against the wall.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she began applying liquid stitches ointment Dr. Browdeski had given her to fully mend her wounds. When she’d finished, she grabbed a cold bottled water from the mini fridge in their bedroom and popped a couple of the Oxycontin painkillers the doctor had prescribed for her. After washing them down she started feeling the numbing effects of the narcotic. Going downstairs to the bar, she fixed a stiff glass of vodka, hoping that it would put her exactly where she needed to be, in the bed and out of her misery, even if only for the
“My glorious hour, yeah right,” and with that said, he nearly fell on his face, grabbing the meter before hitting the ground. Holding on for support, he rocks back and forth. With a loud clap of thunder, the clouds open with a heavy pouring; a cold and clammy feeling captures the air, at the same time the rainwater bounced off his forehead down the cheek of the drunk [leaving a trail of a concealed intimate pain]. The lowly drunk pulled the cherry wine from his pocket and looked deeply into the container, temporarily satisfying his desire.
the winecup fall from his shocked hand. Like pipes his nostrils jetted crimson runnels, a river of mortal red, and
...he night, drinks were passed around, songs were sang, Sully even pulled me to my feet and threw me around for a few minutes in what was some sort of war dance. When I finally was able to sneak away and crawl into my bed, my mind buzzed with thoughts.
“Drink! The wine will brighten your minds.” I endeavored, knowing that I could be drunk easily. “Ha ha ha!” exclaimed the king, as I reluctantly drink from the beaker. “See what a glass of wine can do! I can tell your eyes are shining already!” All the guests and jesters begin laughing, and laughed, but feebly, as well. “Drink, I say, or by the fiends!” I hesitated, and I can see the king filled with rage, while the ministers chuckled and smirked. Margery, pale as corpse, fall to her knee, imploring the king to spare what he is doing at me. At last, the king grew furious, he pushed her to the floor and threw the content of the goblet at her. Poor Margery stands up as best as she could, and there were dead silence for about half a
The people at the party are so drunk that they are barely aware of what they are doing. As they become more drunk, they become more absurd. The woman singing a happy song bursts into tears for no reason. Men become more friendly to women other than their wives, and wives become more violent in de...
Instead of a mouthful of food I had a mouthful of words I wouldn’t let myself vocalize. When she was no longer in sight I rolled over and buried my face in the pillows to let out a scream, and the pillows didn’t fill my appetency for them to muffle the sound. Sighing, I pulled myself into a seated position in the middle of the bed. My gaze locked on the walls; they were a washed-out shade of blue that softly contrasted with the light green coloring the bedding. It was a color combination I wouldn’t have chosen if I’d had a choice in the matter. I let myself fall back into the pillows; my hair blew up into my face sticking itself to my recently licked lips, and I found myself laughing at the position I was
O the wild charge I made, for not only did I manage to dry myself, but in my reverie I dressed as well and, for once, I managed to put my shirt on forwards, and not backwards on the first try. I take now to my sink, to brush my teeth, each damnable spot etched upon the enamel erased with the flick of the brush. Then to floss, stringing up each tooth, blood dripping from the floss where I have neglected this duty in the past. I wonder to myself briefly if I remembered to put on deodorant. I hadn't – and spent the next three minutes wandering around the room, trying to remember where I had stashed it the last time. Just for a second, I lay across my bed, in an effort to search the endless depths found beneath. In that moment, I forgot about the valiant effort which now left me draped across the bed, clothed and cleaned, but not yet fully awake. A brief moment of reprieve, I had to grant