California (Wine) Dreamin’

Message in a Bottle

My glory days Ah the glory days.

I sat in the dark bar. My right leg twitched to the beat of the steel drums in my head. I clutched a beer in my shaky hands. I wasn’t shaky from withdrawls, but from the gulping-type sobs which came from the depth of my soul.

How did I do this again? What am I doing here?” I wiped my eyes and lifted the bottle to examine it, like a chalice.

I was alone. I was always alone when I drank. I watched a group of young men and woman laughing and talking between their sips of lowball drinks and loud high fives. I craved to have that kind of camaraderie, but those days were long gone. Long gone. The booze in front of me was my only companion. I took another sip and sank into my deep brown chair.

I later found myself wandering…

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