Title: Beer

Genre: Nonfiction, (very) short story

Word count: 295

Type of feedback: is it any good?

No link cuz I'll just paste the whole thing.

I wake up with a slight hangover. My bedroom is dark so I figure I must have woken up early. I take a quick drag off my vape and check my phone; it's 1pm. My blinds were just closed.

I leave them closed, put on a pair of tracksuit pants and sit down at my desk. Fire up Netflix and resume watching BoJack Horseman.

I realise that two hours have passed and am awash with guilt. With this as my motivation, I decide to clean my room. I start with the empty beer can that's lying knocked over on my desk. Except it's not empty. Aw shiet. I open the blinds and I can see clear as day (lmao) that my desk has been covered in beer this whole time.

I pop into the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper. When I return, I see that there's actually been a roll of toilet paper on my desk the entire time. "Shouldn't have grabbed this other toilet paper" I muse. My musings turn out to be misguided as the other roll is soaked in beer.

Back to the matter at hand, the desk: I wipe it. Feeling accomplished, I must reward myself. I take a swig from the can and brace myself for the taste of warm, flat beer. I wasn't braced enough, as the beer is nastier than I could ever have expected. What's going on?

Quick flashback. At last night's party, I asked a fella for a shot of his vodka. He gave me his bottle of Smirnoff and instead of taking a shot, I filled up my empty beer can. Good guy.

I have a hearty chuckle at this memory and reward myself by finishing off the can of warm vodka.