Disclaimer: This post, for Writing 101, is fiction. Promise.
Lucy wasn’t one for wishful thinking, but right now she found herself wishing for quite a few things:
- I wish I’d had a more substantial breakfast, was the first on the list. It might have fortified her for such a situation as this, though on second thought it was better that she hadn’t; while it was true that she felt woozy, it was probably better than the alternative. This led her on to the second option:
- I wish I knew where the ladies’ room was, and had something strong to drink.
- I also wish I hadn’t come here. She should have listened to the girls at work and not come here this morning, but she had been determined to do The Sensible Thing. The grown-up thing.
- I wish I’d signed in under a false name. That would have been the second sensible thing… then again, she wasn’t clairvoyant.
- I wish I’d stopped that contract in its tracks.
Lucy spied a small cabinet in the back of the room, and slipping gloves over her hands, swung the door open soundlessly, liberating a random bottle of whiskey. True, she had to drive, but if she couldn’t have something strong to drink now, she certainly could have it waiting for her when she got home.