Monday, May 7, 2012

Vague and dreadful fear...


   Vague and dreadful fear hung over me like a dark cloud, more alcohol induced than I could admit because alcohol was my friend.
(Sotto): He's trying to make us like him, Vatchi, and I don't like that already. What's he doing? Playing the pity card? What is so adorable about portraying yourself as a victim? Pity the victim. Pity this victim. Pity me. No, Vatchi. No....

from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter Two)

1 comment:

  1. I wouldn't like Vodka to be my friend. I'd hate it even more if it texted me. I know a Vodka who calls me on the phone from time to time. It sucks.

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