Walking home from the bus-stop. The birds are singing. I can see the red streetlamp sunrise in the distance, beyond the tower blocks.
At most, two hours sleep. At worst, one. But we went for coffee and cake after the club, so it's unlikely I'll sleep, only doze.
Brushing my teeth in the dark. Shedding coat, scarf, bag, shoes. Collapsing into bed, knees aching, shins bruised, mouth dry. Smelling my hair, my fingers. smoky club stink.
And suddenly I'm on the bus to work, only a half-hour late. And i'm wearing the same skirt as last night, the whole office will smell the cigarettes. And i'm still wearing the same earrings, same makeup. The same empty bottle in my bag, the same grin plastered across my face.

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