A Man Alone
“Somewhere in his subconscious John Doyle heard the key in the lock, her foot upon the stair and her bedroom door open and close. But it was the soft whisper of tears that finally stirred him. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was 2:15. For a little while he lay there, wondering if Josie would wake and go to her daughter. She wouldn’t. The vodka drunk the night before meant she would sleep till morning. Doyle sighed. He liked his beer but Josie—Josie could drink for England. Rubbin...g the sleep from his eyes, he sat up and listened. An alley dog barked somewhere in the distance. Another joined and their conversation roamed back and forth until a harsh voice ushered them to silence. Still he could hear her sobs permeating the thin wall between them. There was nothing else for it. Doyle blew air between his teeth and slipped from the bed.
As he moved, Josie rolled in to his space. He watched the contours of her face tighten then relax before she settled back and her breathing once again returned to normal.MoreLess
As he moved, Josie rolled in to his space. He watched the contours of her face tighten then relax before she settled back and her breathing once again returned to normal.MoreLess
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