A Story Inspired By Charles Bukowski
Fighting One Hangover With Another
He wasn’t exactly a social drinker unless you count the stray cat which kept him company on Friday evenings after work.
Unlike most alcoholics, he admitted he was an alcoholic even before she left him.
But unlike the few who admitted they were alcoholics, he accepted it as not something he had to conquer, but as something that conquered him a long time ago.
‘Oh well,’ he would sigh, celebrating his defeat with the beer he cracked open.
It was a way to drown one loneliness in another. It was a means to forget for a while that he had no hopes, no dreams, no ambitions. It was a way to temporarily escape the fact that he had nothing.
He had nothing
unless you count the stray cat
which kept him company on Friday evenings after work.
Jaundré M. van Breda © 2018
Nice
Thank you. :)
You are welcome