Montana

The next morning dawns bright… a little too bright.

“Make it stop,” I groan, placing a pillow over my face to block out the much-too-bright sun as the incessant pounding in my head continues. “Uh,” I whimper, clutching the pillow tight. I’ve never had a hangover that caused such a loud pounding in my head.

“Montana,” a woman yells. “Open your door.” Immediately, the annoying pounding resumes.

I throw the pillow from my face, ...