Slide

Slide that glass down the bar to me, Tavern Keeper.  My day has been long, as has my week, my year, my marriage, my divorce, my melancholy and life.  Slide that hand-filling vessel of liquid salvation my way, so that it may whisper softly to me that all will be well once I consume it.  It will light a comforting fire in my gullet as it soaks into my body, and caress my mind with satin fog as it soaks into my thoughts.  Slide that glass of surrender and escape to my waiting palm, even though I realize it is merely shackles and sorrow in disguise.  I will hold you blameless for the shame I will wake to, and the disappointment of my loved ones.  Slide me that perfect, precious potion, and look on me no more.  Perhaps if no one is watching, it will wash me away along with my senses, reason, and pain.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Fiction

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s