He sat down at the kitchen table.
A single 40 watt bulb dangled from a bare electrical wire above his head
and dimly illuminated the scene…..
He smoked a broken cigarette as he stared into a darkened corner of the room
and thought he saw the returned, glassy eyed stare of a cat, or a rat.
He stubbed out the cigarette on a spare kitchen chair that no one had sat in for years.
The seat of that wooden chair looked like tobacco moon craters, burnt deep and smelling of black……
He then took a short wheezy breath
and poured his soul into the shot glass
and quickly gulped it down
to fill the psychic depths of pain
with more pain
Call it Rum Reasoning…..
Call it Tequila Telemetry….
Call it Absinthe Abstencia…..
But call it a Disease
Because it is.