jml297

I’d like to say that it was under my own steam, but that would be stretching the truth. There was someone at the front door, hammering away on the old door knocker. I’d moaned loudly and rolled over, sandwiching my head in a pillow which only made me aware of my rank, rum-soaked breath.

‘Go away!’ I bellowed, but the racket continued. Then Darcy, my dog, started barking.

‘Benny! I know you’re in there. Open the door, ya lazy bum.’

I could hear Darcy jumping about in the hallway, and his barks reached an ear-splitting, head-thumping frequency.

‘All right, all right,’ I growled, rolling out of bed and landing on the floor. By the time I got myself upright and to the door, Darcy was angled towards it nose first, hackles bristling, as the door knocker clanged at regular intervals.

I pushed Darcy back, one hand on his collar. Peering through the peephole didn’t help, as either it or my eye was blurry. To prevent another dull thump of the knocker, which was reverberating through my skull, I yanked the door open. It better not be some attempt at religious conversion, or there’d be hell to pay.

The door swung back and I stumbled a little. Darcy had surged forward, and my brain was struggling with two different kinds of momentum. I looked up and saw Steve standing over me, a wide grin across his face.

‘Morning sunshine. You’re looking rough.’

I cursed, tempted to let Darcy loose, but managed somehow to shove the dog back inside and get myself on the other side of the door. Darcy’s growls of displeasure were audible, and I was tempted to join him.

‘Steve. What are you doing here?’

Steve took a step back and sized me up. ‘Don’t you remember? At the pub last night, you said you’d give me a hand with a paving job. I said I’d pick you up at 9 am. I’ve been knocking for ages.’

I swiped a hand across my face, unable to stifle a yawn. ‘Was that today?’ My mind searched, but I couldn’t bring up any clear memories from the night before. Just images of a group of mates, beers and shots flowing, people coming and fading away.

‘Are you sure you said today?’ I was buying time, trying to work out why I’d agreed to help out on a rare day off.

‘Sure did. You said you’d be happy to help.’

I sighed. Must have had more than one too many last night, perhaps.

This was written to a prompt at my writing group.

Photo: dogs and door knockers in a window, Katoomba