Beren lay in bed, his head pounding with pain. He had heard the sqwak of the roosters, at sun-up, knowing he should be out there tending to the garden. But somehow the noise had thrown a goose-downed pillow over his head, instead of trousers on his backside. The sun beamed in the open window, alerting his eyes to the cloudless day outside.
"Now I remember why I don't drink Ale..." he muttered to himself, shielding his eyes from the blinding light.
He arose from the bed finally, knowing he'd have to work double to do as much as he should before lunch. Yet the memories of the night before, flashing through his mind, were more then enough compensation for any labor throughout the day. He could almost feel the dew-laden grass, could almost hear the sweet sound of her laughter...
Except, his head pounded at the memory of any laughter, as the ales he had drank in celebration to himself struck back back with a vengance. He groaned as he dressed, his eyes squinting to see. He was certainly going to need coffee this morning, if he was ever going to get moving.
[ August 23, 2003: Message edited by: Beren87 ]
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