I woke up, rubbed my hand down my face, opened my eyes and grimaced. 

You know the expression, “Mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage”? Well, that was my mouth - if the occupant of the cage was a ravening carnivorous bird that had a fast digestion cycle and shat old blood the consistency of molasses.

https://www.maxpixel.net/static/photo/1x/Bird-Animalia-Birds-Ave-Cage-Nature-Wild-Life-3360278.jpg

I’d either had a massive nosebleed just after going to sleep and the blood had congealed in my mouth and throat, or something decidedly iffy was going on.

I wandered to the bathroom, resisting the urge to howk up the metallic-tasting foulness before I got there, and spat into the toilet. The brown glob of semi-clotted blood drifting down to the bottom of the toilet bowl didn’t make me feel any better. Swirls and spirals of diluted bloodclot moved in the eddies caused by the sinking morass and I watched it all settle, disgust and fascination vying for top-slot in my mind as I checked my mouth for damage.

https://openphoto.net/volumes/sizes/helloandhi/15858/2.jpg

“What the actual fuck happened last night?” I muttered. I looked at my watch and shrugged. The truth is, it could have been last night or this morning… or even this afternoon, the watch said it was a little after 7 and by looking outside, I could see it was long past 7 in the AM.

I leaned over the sink and checked inside my mouth again. The amount of blood I’d spat out could indicate a tooth extraction, but all my teeth were in place. Clenching and unclenching my teeth a few times, I watched for loose or damaged ones. Nope. That theory won’t fly. Not a wince or hint of pain in that area, all present and correct.

http://www.medicalgraphics.de/images/joomgallery/details/free_pictures_11/organs_7/upper-lower-jaw-teeth-frontal_20180129_1807035708.jpg

I brushed them well in case that showed up any issues and before leaving the bathroom, I flossed too. The only thing that struck me as odd was the amount of meat stuck between my teeth. 

I went back to the bedroom to get dressed. Jeans - check. T-shirt - check. Boots - check. 

Something nagged at my brain… Where are last night’s clothes?

To Be Continued...

*Images from Google*