Ronnie’s Drunk

Ronnie continued to vomit a pool on himself. His hair was laminated to his skin and water droplets dappled his face. Danny carried him to the tub and tried washing him off. It was pointless since he reputrified himself every time he threw up. So Danny set him on his side and let him get it all out first. With his hand on his back, he could feel Ronnie’s vomit gurgle up his stomach and splash into the dulled porcelain tub.  As he washed Ronnie, the fumes soaked into the paint on the walls and fibers of their clothes. His head started to ache and his eyes grew sorely dry but watered at the same time. From the stench, he gagged himself quite a few times. Ronnie’s puke was like chunky brown milk. Like a really bad slushy. It was warm and sticking to all of Danny’s fingers and arm hair. It didn’t help that Ronnie was squirming like a beached whale. He splashed a few chunks up on Danny’s face. Sometimes Danny questioned his decisions.