Mar 25, 2019
“Can I help you?” Hal asked from his second-hand recliner outside his garage. From his tone it was hard to determine whether his question was a veiled ‘What are you doing here? Kindly fuck off’ or if he was genuinely puzzled -in a gruff sort of way- about the person wandering about outside his house. Had he not been hangover he would have been considerably more welcoming, but had he not been hangover he would have been inside his garage hard at work. But no, instead he was lying out here with a half-empty cranberry juice carton resting on top of his stomach, taking sips every now. He hadn’t felt like eating so the juice was breakfast.