Old contest entry that managers found - interesting

The needle of brilliant sunshine coming between the blind slats stabbed him in the eye and he rolled away, moaning. His mouth felt thick and dry as he rubbed at his blurry eyes. A flash of memory he just could not capture, jolted him awake, and he raised himself up onto his elbows, squinting again at the bright sunshine filtering into the room.

Making the usual morning sounds that accompany an unwilling awakening, he thumped unhappily to the bathroom and leaned on the sink. His mouth almost cracked and he slopped a handful of water into it and swished it around as his eyes met his image in the mirror. Another lightening flash in his mind and he blinked several times. Coughing and nearly choking, he spit out the water and stared again at the face looking back.

Bloodshot eyes. Pasty skin. Bloodless lips and hair that resembled a burst cushion. He splashed more water on his face, rubbed it dry, relieved to see a bit of colour return and then finished what needed to be done before heading downstairs.

A coffee would set things right again. He got the basket from the machine, stuffed a new filter into it and shoveled in several scoops of coffee. Filled the pot with water, dumped it into the machine and pushed the button.

He felt drained. No energy, no oomph and no ambition. He leaned on the counter listening to the coffee drip through while trying to recall the previous night. The flashes he experienced gave him some pause. Was it an indication of something serious? His eyesight? His brain?

The pot quit gurgling and he poured his first mug full; this would solve his misery. He moved gingerly to the table and sat down, hands wrapped around the mug for its comforting warmth. The first sip exploded down his throat like a lava stream and he sucked in a huge mouthful of air and groaned pleasurably.

"So much better," he said to the room.

His vision cleared somewhat and he felt the effect of the hot coffee begin to wake up the rest of his body. At the same time another flash, except this time it lingered and he thought he saw a shape before it dissolved and disappeared. Another knuckling of the eyes and a draining gulp from his mug and he immediately stood to get a refill. The morning paper should be here, he thought and he left the table, padding barefoot across the floor, sensing the chill of the cold linoleum.

Another sip from the mug. Another lip-smacking moan and he flipped open the first section of the paper. The sudden vision made him drop the sheets and slam back against the chair. The face was perfectly clear but lasted only an instant, yet in that instant he felt recognition and a tiny seed of memory took root.

Something was not right and he fought to think back to the previous night. What the hell had he done? Where had he been? Wine popped into his head. Why wine? He didn't even like it much. A low table and cushions swam in and out of the picture in his head.

He reached for his mug and swallowed the steaming coffee quickly. A mistake because it burned his tongue and now all he could do was dig his upper teeth into its surface as if that would fix it. The face appeared again, this time smiling, and it remained in his vision, which gradually extended to include a body. A body that was sitting across the table from him.

"Good morning, Greg. Sleep well?"

He scrubbed at his eyes and blinked quickly but his guest was still there, smiling.

"What the- who- where did you . . .?"

"I'm crushed, Greg. You don't remember."

"What? Remember what? Who the hell are you?"

"Vera. You remember Vera don't you?"

He tried to get up from the table but his legs would not answer the call and he wet his lips, a worm of fear wriggling across his shoulders.

"Please, who are you? How did- where did you come from?"

"I was your companion last night, Greg. Don't you remember the night club and the other couples we shared wine with? All those comfy cushions and that thread of white powder everyone sampled?"

"D-drugs! Are you saying I did drugs?"

She reached across any took his hand without any opposition. "Oh, Greg, that was nothing compared to what else you shared."

"Huh? What do you mean?" He felt her nails scratching across his palm and his heart gave him a wallop from inside.

Somehow she suddenly appeared on his side of the table in a chair beside him, his hand still tingling from the sensation of her nails. He stared at the face but couldn't set any of the features in his mind; it seemed so fluid. No fixed point of reference. Her lips moved but the sound of her voice came from within his own head, softly teasing . . . chiding."

"Please tell me what is going on here. I don't- can't recall anything you said- are saying." His words took the form of a stream of smoke that passed between them into her open mouth.

"Maybe this will help, Greg."

The sting of pain was mixed with a sensation of rapture as he felt her hair against his cheek. His chest convulsed and is heart began a rapid acceleration and he felt like all the air was being sucked from his body, forcing it to collapse in on itself.

"Mmmmhmm. Day old is always has a little more punch. All those drinks and drugs get a chance to meld." She wiped her lips with a finger and then sucked on it, rolling her big eyes in ecstasy.

Greg stared at the table top. His head filled with a light buzz and his limbs tingling but useless.

"I knew you would be a good choice the minute I saw you, Greg. You really have a quality product flowing through you. I can finally relax for a while." She started talking like they were old friends or partners, oblivious to the fact that he was totally dazed out. "Spending all those nights cultivating sources only to wind up with a mediocre crop. It wears a girl out."

Greg eventually felt some movement return and he pushed himself up out of the chair and stumbled to the sink counter. The sponge felt cool against his face and he touched his neck tentativelywhere the sting remained.

What happened to me? He turned around but he was alone. That fact almost made him cry. He clutched his head and closed his eyes. Am I going nuts? Was it a dream? He straightened suddenly and frowned. From the freezer of his fridge he withdrew a large frozen steak and set it in the sink to thaw then made his way back upstairs to the bathroom.

A shave and a shower, a splash of cologne and he began to feel a little more human. After a few minutes arranging his hair he nodded at the final result. Maybe after getting outside in the sun he would lose that pallor.

The minute he stepped out the door he felt like he would explode. The little bit of sunshine he received had singed his hair and made his skin pucker. He dashed back indoors, his breath coming in gasping waves. Back upstairs, two at a time, tearing his clothes off on the way, he stood before the mirror again.

"Should have mentioned before I left, Greg . . ."

"Yeow!" He jumped sideways, crashing into the tub and banging every sharp edge he could manage.

"You shouldn't go out until after sundown. Just a precaution. And then only for an hour. No longer. Sorry, but I had to put those parameters in place; can't afford to lose a good source."

He stared up at her in disbelief, his body one huge pain and his head aching to join in. She smiled down, tossed her hair and vanished.