DREW'S LOT

Drew moved slowly down the hall, his head still hurting and his temples throbbing from the late-night and early morning session that seem to have only just ended. He had consumed everything in his flat that was liquid and drinkable. Finding strength to pause, even in his heavily inebriated state, at the bleach and old floor polish he’d found in the cupboard under the sink. Reminding himself that even though the previous day had been longer and harder than 24 hours was ever meant to be, that death by cleaning out the insides of his stomach and leaving a beautiful shine would make the pathologist’s job too easy. If he is going to leave this planet by self-destruction he will make it as messy as possible, something with a bit of blood and guts, a bit like one of the poor victims in a low budget 80’s horror movie.
He caught a glimpse of himself, out of the corner of his bloodshot eye, in the large hallway mirror that hung along the wall by the front door. His reflection reminded him of the cartoon character Pig Pen in the Peanuts comic strip, with wild untamed hair complete with fleas jumping from his head to look for less traumatic places to nest, and all of this in three dimensions instead of only two. It made him feel as if he really had woken up in a low budget 80’s horror movie, fully clothed and about to be axed in half by his landlady, Mrs.H, as she appeared, regular as clockwork, from the doorway of her smokey kitchen.
“Morning Mister Callington, off to work then?” she rasps from between her nicotine stained teeth.
“ No Mrs. H., I’ve just found a dead body in my best suit in the wardrobe and I’m just walking it to the bins”
“ What was that Mister Callington?”She says screwing up her beady eyes.
Drew had, for the six years he’d been living in Bristol’s answer to 10 Rillington Place, taking great self-amusement in Mrs.H.’s profound deafness. Of which, to her, he was constantly grateful. If only he could find someone else to share his great witticisms with.
“ I said yes Mrs. H. just getting the rubbish ready for the bins.” he shouted, shaking his brain inside his fragile head. Mrs.H. reacting with one if her many confused looks. All of this almost making Drew forget his mail on the way out through the front door.