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His gait was unsteady. He'd be okay for a while, walk well and upright for a short distance, but then he'd falter and he'd have to find something to keep him up - a wall, a fencepost, a tree.
He was drunk. Again. So many times he had promised to stop. So many times he had told her he wouldn't drink anymore. But each and every time, he would falter, he would break his promise, he would lose his stride toward sobriety.
He weaved his way up the walk. The house was silent and dark.
He knew that she was gone.
Ndinombethe.
p.s. Because I plan two days of Sarah for the weekend, I am going to reprint last Halloween's Ghost Story tomorrow. It may not be word for word - it may be an update, edit for polish version of the story. We'll see.
14 comments:
so sad, so sad...
It reminded me of a story my father told me a long time ago about a man that drank and worked for him. Funny how a few words will bring back something I must have heard over 50 years ago.
Hey, are you writing about me again?
You can put so much emotion into so few words.
I LOVE your 100 word entries and this one is no exception!
I need to get my life back in order so that I can participate again. *sigh*
Isn't it strange how we instantly think of a connotation when presented with a word... I could only think of verbally faltering. Perhaps that's because I have a child who stutters.
Thank you, though, you've just given me a reason to look forward to the weekend, other than a total sugar overload. What possessed me to give birth to a child on Hallowe'en?!
sounds sadly familiar.
I loved this. I'm glad you're going to re-post last year's ghost story.
As always, amazing. A little close to home for my comfort, but beautiful nonetheless.
Tragic, but captured well in your words.
Looking forward to rereading the Ghost Story. I believe I still remember it :)
Shadow: Yes, it is. And I'm sorry.
Moneythoughts: Glad I could stim a memory for you, Fred.
Audubon Ron: Yup.
Tara R: Thank you, Tara.
Ashlie: Yes - jump in.
Mrs F with 4: I'm sure you had little choice, Beccy.
Stacie: Yes, it does.
Joyce-Anne: Tomorrow.
CaraBee: Thank you, ma'am.
Momisodes: It's cleaned up a little - but it's the same story.
I always enjoy your 100 word posts...
Good God, the tragedy of addiction. It's just so damn sad.
(Oh, and p.s., my captcha word for this comment is "sanest". It's official.)
I agree, so sad. And sad, too, is how close to home it came for so many of us.
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