You should drink water!

Very brief next installment. Some things happened that kept me from writing. When I'm not in the right head-space it's impossible to step into the scene and write. It's been days since I actually wrote something at all. I'm not stressing, just a bit concerned that I may lose the connection. I'm again worrying that I may not have enough material, or that what I've planned might not work out. I know the worry is probably unfounded, up to know, I've always looked back, shaking my head about my own silly thoughts. Elaine is a great character and so is Mr. Obnoxious, and there's some real bomb as a surprise lurking, but I'm terrified of the space between all those twists. Don't get me wrong, it's not a moan, but merely what I've said I wanted to do: document my thoughts on the process of writing a novel.

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He grinned from ear to ear. 'Well, in that case I'm guilty, too. Anyway, nice talking to you. Enjoy your evening.' With another wink, he turned and left me standing, lost for words. Yes, I thought, and you deserve your secret name. How could someone be so oblivious to a person's dislike? I had no idea why he kept back for more, maybe it was some sort of game for him, trying to make me like him. A challenge, apparently, most men love. If he doesn't back off, I'd give him an earful.

'You all right, love?' Gary asked when I returned to the table.

I nodded, pressing my lips together.

'He likes you.'

'Tough, because that feeling isn't mutual. Could you please hand me the butter, Ronnie?' Changing the subject seemed a good idea. That guy didn't deserve any more of my time, so there was no point to elaborate.

'Okay, sorry I said something,' Gary muttered, tearing a piece of bread off the baguette.

'It's all right,' I replied. 'So, what were you up to this afternoon?'

According to Ronnie, he and Ben played chess, while Gary headed to bed, farting as he slept.

'Too much information here.' But I had to laugh. The three were refreshing, distracting me for periods of time, and that's what I was here for, right? The hours flew by, and the wine went down our throats, so rapidly that, at half ten I had to excuse myself. After good night air-kisses from Ronnie and Ben, and a wet smack on the cheek, plus bear hug from Gary, I left the dining room, concentrating on my walk. Not with much success. I tripped over my own feet and into the hall, helplessly trying to find something to hold on to.

'Whoa, lady, be careful.' Two strong arms grabbed me.

'Thank you,' I slurred.

'Don't worry, it was that last glass, I'm sure,' he said, this big, smug grin again on his face, still holding onto my wrist.

'I'm okay now, you can let go!'

'You sure?'

I wiggled my hand free and nodded. 'Positive.'

'Right,' he replied. 'I hope your hangover won't be too bad tomorrow. You should drink some water.'

'I don't know why this is your business!' How dare he told me what to do.

He frowned. 'Just sayin', you'll feel the amount of wine tomorrow.'

'Excuse me?' That was just bordering on rude. I've had enough and turned on my heel.

'Trust me, lady, you want to drink some water.'

'Ah, leave me alone,' I said, trying to take the steps with as much grace as I could muster. If only they'd stop blurring. Downstairs, the door closed, muffling the chatter and laughter. On the last step, I stumbled and landed on my knees. 'Damn,' I muttered to myself. It took me a few seconds to get back onto my feet then, using the wall as support, I finally arrived at my room.