Hanging in there

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Jack stared at the body on his bed and 
contemplated his evening. 
It had not gone well. 
This wasn't even the first dead body he'd seenthat day, it was becoming a little excessive. 



His morning had started with a hangover; his 
patented icey dip in the snow- usually a sure fire cure, failing to have the desired effect-his head still throbbed and the resulting 
discovery of a somewhat frozen woman dangling in icicle fashion from his fire escape, did 
nothing to alleviate the hammer in his skull. 


The morning had progressed in a similar vein 
and my midday he'd discovered another corpse- 
this one a particularly argumentative 
neighbour- lying half way out her front door.


At around 3pm Jack decided that on any day, 
even following a hangover, a two body minimum 
was enough to start drinking, heck, he rarely 
needed an excuse. He dejectedly but decidedly 
wandered into his local corner pub and ordereda Whiskey and coke, hold the coke. The night 
flowed and at some point- he couldn't quite 
recall when, he met a striking young lady withrosey cheeks and legs past her armpits and 
together they left the bar. 


Jack wasn't much of a smooth talker, but this evening his combination indifference and poor luck worked like some wild animal deodorant, popular in the early 2000s and here they were, in his pokey apartment...insert pun here.


Later, glancing between the digital numbers on his bedside clock and the inanimate, lifeless figure in his bed, Jack sighed a very heavy 
sigh. 

Tomorrow had to be better.
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