Fly Me To The Moon

8 days ago

It was a few days after the New Year. As tradition had stipulated for the Scots, I had been outrageously drunk many times. Indeed, it could be said that I was mawkit which despite what the internet tells you is a Scottish/Glasgow term for extremely drunk indeed. Filthy drunk.

It was usually used in polite phrasing such as - Ah wiz pyoor mawkit by the way

Which is to say that you were steaming drunk. Or just plain steamin.

I digress, however.

So, there I was, some days after the main event, getting up early to do healthy things like running, going to the gym and all other manner of nonsense.

But before I could do such things I had to wrestle with the whole getting out of bed malarkey and into my clothes.

No problem, I do this kind of thing every day I told myself as I lay in my bed at 08:02 scrolling through my Hive feed.

Little could I have known that there was to be a problem. Oh yes, a big problem.
_{^{That's foreshadowing, classic case. Means I am alerting you to something bad happening. Crazy huh? They should do it in movies more.}}

C'mon you fat prick, up and at them.

I joked with myself knowing that I was not a fat prick, on the contrary I was an astonishingly svelte and handsome prick who was well on his way to having a two-and-a-half pack after some years of just a two-pack.

Truly these were great times to live in.

My phone ticked over to 08:03 and I hauled myself up and out from under the covers. Today, was going to be a very good day indeed.

I would like to imagine at this point that I heard the shrill craaawk of a crow and a shadow passed over me but no, nothing helpful like that happened.
_{^{See? More foreshadowing, the tension is ratcheting up like the salt levels on a healthy Nigerian salad. I can hardly fucking bear it!}}

Lots to get done. Lots to plan, it was New Year! So many good shits to contemplate and not just literal ones.

I grabbed my water bottle, phone, and Kindle and walked over to the stairs heading down to the living room. Oh, Dawgy, don't forget that hoodie you were going to stick in the wash! Oh yes and whilst you are at it, grab some other washing too!

All set for the day ahead with my hands full of stuff, I stepped onto the stair and flicked a glance at my watch - 08:04

Except, that the stair wasn't there?

Was this like some weird multiverse fantasy? Had I shifted into a dimension without stairs? Without gravity?

Did we fly here? Awesome! Who hasn't dreamed of flying?

And fly I did.

I could end the story here and be soundly congratulated by all and sundry for my mastery of flight.

Perhaps I would add a close-up of a feather and post my story in the Feathered Friends community and see them all seethe with rage that I had fucking gazumped them and took to the skies.

But alas, unlike the price of Hive and its glorious ascent into the stratosphere, upon not finding a step beneath my foot I did not flutter up and tweet like a burdy on the stairs.

Rather, I felt a mad horror as my foot waggled in empty space and then began to plummet taking the rest of me with it.

Being half man/half ninja I dropped all the mad shit I was carrying except for my phone and snapped a hand out to the handrail on the stairs.

However, I had mysteriously picked up some velocity in the nanoseconds I had begun falling and my ninja snatch to the handrail only succeeded in spinning my body around until I was facing backwards before my hand lost its grip and I truly took flight.

Downwards.

Backwards.

I would like to say that I roared manfully and shook a fist at the gods as I plummeted down some ten feet of hard-edged stairs.

Or I could say I closed my eyes and thought, fuck it, let fate play it's fickle games. I am a prince of darkness and shall brook no nonsense.

But alas no, despite the solid almost full second of falling backwards I only had time for one thought.

Oh no.

Then I hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs and bounced off onto the floor.

As I lay stunned, a picture frame containing one of my old band's limited edition single releases fell on my head, the glass tinkling like shards of the moon around me.

OH MY GOD!? Are you ok?

I heard the Good Lady shout as she ran out of the bedroom.

She ran down to me and picked some shards of moon-glass from around where I lay.

What happened?

She cried as she reached out a hand to help me up.

Gingerly, I got up and patted myself down. Nothing appeared to be broken, although all of me hurt. There was a bleeding graze on my elbow from where it had bravely tried to arrest my fall.

I gritted my teeth and looked at the stairs which were now doing their best to look innocent.

What happened...? I think 2025 just tried to kill me.

life writing story vyb proofofbrain blog

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124 comments

@hivebuzz 74

8 days ago

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@davideownzall 68

8 days ago

Hahaha the older one gets, the more time it takes to recover from big drinks and the more sleep you need 😂

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Fly Me To The Moon

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