I started to drink heavily, comfortably caught in the tentacle-like clutches of alcohol.
One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture; A pale blue eye with a film over it.
He didn’t like the idea of leaving unfinished business behind. He had wanted definite answers about the heart attacks to be able to turn the page on who or what caused so many of his brothers to die.
We did a Tarot card reading. She told me different things, most of them depressing and worth forgetting. But what I'll always remember is her prediction of my death, and how I'd become a kind of ghost, ‘wandering’ she said, with a ‘spiritual re...
He tried to get drunk, “to forget about life for awhile,” as that old Billy Joel song once said, but the scotch couldn't anesthetize his pain and provide a retreat from the reality of his latest failures.
