My fathers waltz
You grit your teeth and try not to, but you feel betrayed. Your mood is instantly gone. You are instantly scared. Your eyes well up as you stare blankly at your white ceiling. You are a thousand times greatful that your stomach is empty.
Crow Royal, he says, and you go cold.
Your fathers drink.
You know that it is nothing. He is honest with you, tells you that he's sipped a half an ounce, maybe two thirds. But the fact that he wants to taste it makes your stomach churn. That it has been only two nights since he last had hard liquor. You are numb and alone with your panicky what-if's.
You get up to lock your doors and turn out your lights. Today has been too much.
Crow Royal, he says, and you go cold.
Your fathers drink.
You know that it is nothing. He is honest with you, tells you that he's sipped a half an ounce, maybe two thirds. But the fact that he wants to taste it makes your stomach churn. That it has been only two nights since he last had hard liquor. You are numb and alone with your panicky what-if's.
You get up to lock your doors and turn out your lights. Today has been too much.