Chapter 14: The Black Hole, Part 5a
Piranha opened his eyes. Then closed them again.
After a moment, he opened them once more. Nausea swirled the dingy, ashy greyness around him.
After another wait, he sat up. Gingerly. Maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed. Remained there motionless.
It was day. The lights were on. Much too on.
He was going to have to move. He prepared himself.
It didn’t matter. He hadn’t —
He did not bury his face in his hands. After a moment, he stood up. Step by weighted step he moved into the bathroom.
Out of the shower, dredging his face in a towel, he stopped moving. Then, grimly, started up again.
A slurry of fragmentary images: tankards of rum, empty and full, vertical and horizontal, littering the tables, floor, everywhere. Long sinuous lines of absurdly dancing human pi