Karaoke is nothing but trouble. My house this morning looked just like the house that fell on the witch. We’re not in Kansas anymore. I was woken up this morning by a small boy watching cartoons. I ignored the disturbance until I became painfully aware of the clutter, spilt booze ash and soot. Piles upon mountains of empties. As I step out into the kitchen to quench my thirst I see further empties, crushed crisps, glasses, my mother’s food sculptures and a stranger on my couch. He talks to me like we’re old friends asking me to get him a taxi, I point to the phone. Giggling at the madness of it, I begin the clean up and several of my neighbours bins later I have finished. My parents wake up and make me a coffee while streams of random people leave my home. My sister falls out of bed complaining of a sore foot she’s fine, we’re fine and in the end everything turned out all right.
It’ll be alright in the end if it’s not alright it’s not the end. The end.
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