Someone is groaning pitifully. I try pursing my lips to shush them, but I can’t feel my mouth. Well, shit. I am sauced, again.
I force open an eyelid, and the moan cuts off, as the sun drives a fiery spike down into my brain. Hissing, I shut my eye.
I remember collapsing on the way to the temple. I remember laughter. I remember rough hands lifting and pushing me onto the tumbrel. I remember prayers and…screaming. I…remember…
I try to wiggle my toes, but feel nothing. I cannot feel my hands.
The gods have taken their tithe.
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: collapse, sauce, tumbrel)