The Horror

This may be a time of war, starvation, homelessness, and despair but it’s rare for me to be truly horrified. But, this was a truly terrible confession by Mr R (to keep anonymity). It took some minutes for me to stop shaking with dread. Well Mr. R was out on the town having some beers. All good so far. It has to be done after all. I’d like to imagine he was chatting up everything with a skirt.

And as is customary he decided to have some vodka when he got home. As God would have intended. Well, after pouring himself a triple or so, he had a sip and let the taste hit his tongue.

But he decided that he had his fill and threw it down the sink.

“How could you?” I said

“It’s just so wrong?”

“Think of all the alcos dying for a drop, how do you live with yourself?”

The horror.

All those years of patience, seeking perfection ruined.

Perhaps, it started its life as a potato out in a field full of hope that someday in the future, it could be distilled into the most perfect vodka before being drunk by a good man. Hopes now cruelly dashed.

I think of that partially empty bottle of vodka, all alone in a fridge somewhere wondering what is the meaning of it all.

It’ll take time folks but I’ll be okay. Each hour I’m thinking about that beautiful full glass of vodka, a little bit less. I’m strong, I can do it.