My mouth was dry; nausea was creeping up on my gullet. The schnapps was exerting its payment for soothing my soul a few hours before. As I turned over in bed, my head protested at the movement.
I needed to drink water but if I got up, would I get back to sleep again? I feared that as soon as I turned on the light, I would be catapulted into my daylight-self and sleep’s cavern-like seclusion would elude me. But I was nearly chocking from the dryness, which brought the nausea into sharp relief.
My head banged in sympathy. And now I wanted to pee. That’s it. The night was shot. Might as well accept it.
