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So i swing my feet out of bed, squinting, everything is a fuzzy blur.
Scratching a throbbing head, a bit of sun peaking through the blinds,
my back away from her.
The series and sequence of events from last night, all register a blank.
I'm in a strange room, in a stranger's bed, half-empty bottles and used cigarette butts.
A stash of funny and the happy, empty cellophane packets.
Where the fuck are we? And she is...