More of Thirty-Eight Locke’s Point Road.
So I may have just written just over 3000 words today on this. So, here you go. Remember that this is a first draft, as well. I tried a little experimental bit in here, I’d love feedback to see if it works okay.
Jack woke the next morning, shivering and sore. It wasn’t that he hadn’t slept well – the spare room over the pub was actually cozy. The bed was soft and comfortable, and he’d been asleep maybe three seconds after his head hit the pillow, which may have smelled a little old, but was like resting your head on a cloud. When he awoke, however, his stomach cramped up, he was damp with night-sweats, and his head swelled and ached with the beginning of what was threatening to be a monster hangover. All along his ribs and back, he was beginning to bruise, and by the end…
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