Fitting

Cora woke the next morning to boulders crashing together in her brain and stormy seas in her stomach. She just barely made it to the bathroom where she was certain that she threw up her spleen. When there was finally nothing left in her stomach she staggered back to her bed.

She was surprised to find a couple of aspirin and a bottle of water left for her on the bedside table. She took them gratefully and sipped the water. When Cora had used the toilet, she realized she was incredibly sore down there.

Cora thought that it was not sore where she would expect if she had sex. She thought it felt like she had stabbed herself in the clit with a carving fork. It was really uncomfortable, and she had noticed some traces of old blood. What the hell happened last night?