Girl With Hangover, Bob Dornberg
SOUTH BEACH HANGOVER GIRL
DAVID ARTHUR WALTERS
“Oh, oh,” the girl moaned, “I’m so sick, I’m dying, I’m dying” the girl uttered under her breath after she entered Manuel’s South Beach Internet Café. Things are black.”
“Here, sit down,” said Manuel, taking her gently by the arm and guiding her towards his own reclining chair in the rear of the cafe. She staggered slightly, and sat down on the ottoman in front of it instead.
“Oh,” she moaned again, putting her elbows on her knees and her face between her hands, “I’m going to die. I can’t breathe.”
“You can’t breathe?” Manuel asked.
“I’m having trouble, trouble breathing….” I noticed she was sweating slightly.
“Do you want me to call the emergency service?” Manuel asked.
“Yes, please, I’m so sick, please.”
“Okay.” Manuel picked up the phone and punched in the numbers.
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