I Lay on the Floor.

I lay on the floor, prostrate, with shirt torn and slacks loosened around my waste. My cufflinks had been undone and I had spied my tie not ten feet from me set atop an armchair across the room. Inside my lower lip along my gum line I felt swelling and my tongue tasted the slightest traces of blood. My skull felt horrific and my sight was blurred. Although, at this moment, I did attribute this to the lack of sunlight within the room. Wooden slated shutters covered each window and expelled a great percentage of the light from the room. The other attribution to my lack of sight had to have been the large, swelling gash that I had procured over my left eye sometime between nine the prior night and eight twenty seven this very morning.

The room. Yes, where was I?

Rolling to my left I sat up quietly and rested there for a moment gauging my surroundings and attempting to place myself, but to no avail. The room, the furnishings, the decorations were all unrecognizable to me. Finally I staggered to a near window and opened, ever so slightly, the slats to allow only the most miniscule amount of light to enter. With my left eye half shut I proceeded to place myself back together in the most manageable way possible. Buttoning buttons and tying laces it struck my mind that I would, in the very near future, have to venture outside of this rooms walls and enquire as to where I was. But for now I was to continue to generate upon myself the most adequate image of a gentleman that I could.