The empty bottle rolled across the floor and came to a sudden stop with a clank against the leg of the table. I looked over to the couch and could see, if barely in the dusk light, the outline of a prone body. One arm thrown across his face, the other to the side and leaning on the floor, likely the source of the fallen bottle.
I shouldn't be surprised, I tell myself. The signs were there. The stress, the anger, the late nights, the depression, pills and finally drinking.
Stupid writing challenges.
Apparently this is part of a Writing Challenge. To see more, go to www.WeWorkForCheese.com . Today's theme is The Empty Bottle.