Touch too Much

I´m woken up at 0400 by a "cock-a-doodle-do". That lasts for about five minutes. I have a unpleasant twinge in my stomach that I can stretch out, but won´t go away. I ate too much. There´s more "cock-a-doodle-doo" repeated hourly until I get up at 0730. Something is wrong, I´m still not hungry again.

At breakfast, I unnecessarily swallow the cornflakes, but without too much trouble. Then Wilson arrives with scrambled eggs and panchetta. Oh, crap. What would Kobayashi-san do? And so, I scrape the dish clean. A dish isn´t finished until there´s no longer enough  material to cover a spoon.

Gonzalez and Mariela drive me into town to the bus station. I can feel that twinge again and I´m not enamoured by the pressure of the seatbelt against my stomach. At the station, I get out of the car and take a few deep breaths. Something is wrong - badly wrong. I spot a tree stump with some rogue plant growth and a small pit in the dirt. Moments later, in a single swift motion, I lean over and projectile-vomit onto my chosen spot.

I guess it´s possible that I may be ill, so rearrange for the afternoon bus. With records from 2000, I´m only ill for two days, once every four and half years, and I did that a few months ago. By the early afternoon, I´m in a bar, drinking the remaining time away and watching some old men playing an indecipherable card game involving three cards, some assorted counters and small stones. So, it seems that I simply ate until I threw up. I did not expect that was possible.