Charlie lay on the bare floor with only his white, cotton boxers to cover the little dignity he had left.
“Thank God” he smirked, thinking of how humiliating it would be to have to sneak into his neighbor Jim’s house to borrow a pair of underwear.
The afternoon sun glared through the window illuminating the emptiness and his headache. He sat up in the middle of the room and scratched himself. His head was pounding but he considered it doubtful that he’d find any pain-killers.
As the blood rushed to his head, he looked around the measly apartment.
“Without all the crap it actually looks decent”, he thought for a second. “Someone could really turn this into a nice home someday.”
Charlie pushed himself up off the floor and made his way to the toilet, hoping that someone hadn’t managed to rip that out of the ground as well.
As he stretched his aching body, he noticed the mirror Angie bought at the flea market was still in the same place. There was something written on his forehead. He looked at his reflection closer and smiled.
“Screw you.”
