The last thing I expected to see that morning was a snowman with a carrot nose standing beside my laptop. Well of course it wasn’t a real snowman – just one of those awful blow-up dolls that you see in cheap shops. But how did it get there? More importantly, who put it there? I live alone with my two dogs and, as far as I know, no-one else has a key to my house.
I know I was drunk last night when I came home from our company’s annual Christmas dinner and dance. I vaguely remember staggering upstairs in a stupor and collapsing into my bed in the early hours, but I don’t remember bringing “Frosty” the snowman home with me. I vaguely remember dancing with him for a while. Was I dancing with him all night? I don’t remember.
In fact, I don’t really remember much at all about last night after the coffee during which we suffered interminable boring speeches and prizes given out by our company directors. I didn’t get one, did I?
Barry, from accounts, had been plying me with wine all evening, my wine glass never seemed empty. Then someone bought our table a bottle of champagne. Fatal, that! I can’t take champagne. Never have been able to. I get garrulous after one glass, and after two……well, I’m almost anybody’s! Now I was really worried.
How did I get home? I couldn’t remember. Perhaps it was time for me to have another look upstairs.
Phew! My bedroom was empty except for my untidy unmade bed and the clothes I was wearing last night strewn haphazardly all over the floor. That was a relief. Then I opened the spare bedroom door.
“Barry!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing in my spare bed?”
“Well, it didn’t seem right to take advantage of you in the state you came home in last night,” grinned Barry. “So, like the gentleman that I am, I bedded down in here. Are you up for it now?”
“What? You must be joking!” I retorted. “I think it might just be time for you to go home now, Barry!”
10 minute tale at our Creative Writing Class from first line prompt