The sound entered my ear from my right; it bounced off the other side of my skull and rattled around until it landed on the soft tissue of my brain. I turned my head to the left and covered my head with the pillow; there would be more, eleven according to the small neon light which turned from eleven fifty nine to twelve. I covered my head with the ivory damask covered pillow and pushed as much of the fabric down as a possible, bracing myself for the next barrage of pain thinking whiskey doesn't mask the sounds of home.

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