Torn
“The pub was busy, full of the office lunchtime crowd looking for sandwiches and shepherd’s pies on a Friday afternoon.
Chris was looking for a remedy.
The place was across the road from the station, and he’d popped in for a quick one, realizing that alchohol was doing a better number on his limbs than ten painkillers. He knocked back the vodka; unable to remember the last time he had been really, truly, shitfaced drunk.
Actually no, he was wrong. He could.
Three years earlier ...Chris parked his car carefully, but still couldn’t avoid hitting the kerb.
He unbuckled his seatbelt, managing to get it tangled as he stumbled out of the car. Then he made his way unsteadily up the path, rang the front doorbell, and stood swaying slightly while he waited for her to reply. After a moment the hall light flicked on, then the outside light, bathing him in a yellow glow.
‘Who is it?’ Her voice was edged with annoyance.MoreLess
Chris was looking for a remedy.
The place was across the road from the station, and he’d popped in for a quick one, realizing that alchohol was doing a better number on his limbs than ten painkillers. He knocked back the vodka; unable to remember the last time he had been really, truly, shitfaced drunk.
Actually no, he was wrong. He could.
Three years earlier ...Chris parked his car carefully, but still couldn’t avoid hitting the kerb.
He unbuckled his seatbelt, managing to get it tangled as he stumbled out of the car. Then he made his way unsteadily up the path, rang the front doorbell, and stood swaying slightly while he waited for her to reply. After a moment the hall light flicked on, then the outside light, bathing him in a yellow glow.
‘Who is it?’ Her voice was edged with annoyance.MoreLess
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