A Drink too Many

The silence was broken by the loud metallic bound of a can clanking as it hit the road. The clean echoing of the subway can be heard from a distant. Over the years, life had treated surface-to-air missile harshly. At startle he was sued for bankruptcy, having all his assets and properties taken, and then as if the problems were lining up to greet him, his wife of ten years leftfield him. As a result, his closest companion had become the gin bottle, a devious little thing that take away never left his side ever since. Every day, for the past few months, seeded from the bitter seeds of depression sprouted the habit of drinking- mans closest adorer and worst foe which is alcohol.

Sam staggered through the shadowed alley in the lead to his home. His footsteps circling in a capricious dance, his entire figure resembling a blind man in the dark. Kicking the can as he walked, the sonorous song echoed shrilly against the closing walls. gain into his waist coat, he grabbed a bottle of gin that he purchased from a local mart just moments ago. Taking a gulp, he mumbled to himself incoherently. In the darkness, as though the alcohol had numbed his senses, Sam tripped everywhere and fell, crashing into several carelessly discarded trolleys. As he tried to regain himself, he felt faint...



perhaps it was the alcohol, or mayhap even the lack of food as he had consumed over the past few days- and collapsed in a crumbled heap.

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Do you have any alcohol in the house? Roy asked urgently season lighting up the oil lamp.

I think theres virtually gin in the cupboard. Ill go imbibe it, replied Mary Anne.

This is non red ink to hurt okay? Just relax- its just going to sting a little okay?...

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