drunk-guy1

The next day there were many victories. The coffee from inside the pantry inside the kitchen inside the house was brewed and there were victories together with the coffee and they were the Xanax that was prescribed by the doctor and together they were consumed. The brew was bold and it was fine. Now the fighting in his head was calm and it was not turbulent. The people milled around and they were his family and they did not seem to notice him and it was what he wanted for today.

There was a child of three and she was not an adult, and a child of six and she also was not an adult and they destroyed not everything but almost. And there was a wife and she was quiet and it was what he wanted for today. And beyond the house there was a street inside a town along a route that led not to anywhere but a bar. Later, inside the bar, he sat with friends and glasses and bottles of everything, and he knew the year was over for it was December and the end at that. And they drank quickly and not seriously and swung their glasses into the air and knowing not what for, they drank again for many times. The bottles of everything poured their contents and the contents were dark and lovely and after this he walked alone a bit and thought he must go on to leave at once.

“You must go on. Leave at once,” he heard and the voice was his and it was inside his head.

“Stay,” he heard, and again it was a voice but it was not his and he stayed instead for more.They raised the glasses many more times and it was good. And finally when the bottles were not full and the money was no longer theirs, they walked together from the bar into the new dark night. The night had a feeling that of rain and he stood outside and shivered through his coat and had a small argument but it was only his and inside his head and then he was with them again. It was dark, and they could not see the trees and the trees had dropped their leaves and the leaves were blown away on the wind to another town where they were not.”Good night,” he heard and the voice was his and he spoke these words to them.
“Good night,” he heard, and again it was a voice but it was not his. And he walked this way and they the other, and it was good.And then it rained.

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