The miserable men
by Emma Philipps | Score: 2000
It is Friday evening. I have had a hard week at the factory. To relax, I go to the café. There, I meet my friend, Henry Philipson. He hasn't a better job than me, because he is a delivery driver.
"Good week, Henry ?" I asked, sitting.
"Er... yeah !"
He hiccoughed. I frowned. Something wasn't normal. Henry never hiccoughed. It made him laugh when I did, because he didn't. Never. So I said :
"What's wrong, Henry ?"
Hedidn't even answer. He was snoring. I got up, and walked near him. He smelled alcohol. Ouch. I had my answer, then. Henry never drunk, except when he was really depressed. This day, he had drunk so much he was drunk. I brought him in my little appartment and put him on my bed. We really had a bad life. Henry's appartment was even smaller than mine. I took a bit of syrup, the lavander sirup my mom always gave me when I was sick as a child. Then my appartment exploded. And we died.