After the End .. or the Next Day

I think I must have been drunk last night. Intoxication still drifts in mists through my thoughts and Lar Torvis only reaches me in sharp spears that lance through the fog. I watch my fingers braiding the leather strips and I know they are my hands but my vision fluctuates from being so far away to very close. So close I have to lean back to focus. Today I do not try to brush the hair from my gaze. It is a welcome shade.

I do not drink much. I do not have time. I am still trying to piece together the events of yesterday. I remember a comfortable numb though. It lingers with the mists.

The repetitive movements are easy on my conscious. The back and forth as the new leather slides against my fingers.

My memory comes in flashes. I remember yesterday up to a point. A point where I was done riding and I had decided to make my way towards the first wagons. Perhaps spend some time with the spunky little jir. I like the person she brings out in me.
But I never got there.