4Caught in Mid-StreamThe feeling of wood hitting the side of his face pulled Billy back into reality. It was another full minute before he realized someone had not whacked him with some sort of wooden bat, as he’d first thought, but instead, he’d nose-dived onto the floor.
He could smell chemicals and a little polish, but mostly sidewalk dust carried in on a variety of shoes since the last time a dirty mop had been hauled across the floor. Despite the smell, he chose to lay there a little longer. The reception room rocked gently back and forth and he was losing a fight with nausea in his stomach.
The first spew of vomit surprised him, shooting from his mouth without any notice and with such force that it cast a decorative orange spray across the floor in front of him.
That was the juice
