From the January 2018 magazine.

Bloodshot Eyes

Shaking and nauseous, he puts on a dirty shirt to go out. He has to. He’s all out of liquor

It’s 5:00 a.m. and the cold sweats slap me awake. It takes all of my might to gain a sitting position on the side of the bed. I work up the nerve to try and stand. I steady myself, but it’s no use. I sit down hard, fall back and groan. With the effort of lifting a mountain, I try again. I’m standing, swaying, dizzy, nauseous.

I do the toxic shuffle to the kitchen with my arms out in front of me, like Frankenstein, in the underwear I’ve been wearing for three days. I curl my trembling fingers around the empty glass on the counter from last night’s last drink, arms shaking. Instinctively, I reach into the cupboard and pull out the handle of vodka with two inches purposely left in the bottom for this morning. I’m a functioning alcoholic alright.

-- Mark T.

Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA

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