A handle of the cheapest blended whiskey cost fifty bucks at the twenty-four-hour convenience store even though it was only worth half of that. The Pakistani cashier never put down his phone the whole time I was there, tossing my change onto the counter before turning back to a soccer game on the ancient TV. I wrapped the bottle in a plastic grocery bag and was already undoing the cap before I’d even made it out the door.
Twist off. This was what I had become.
It was late now and the streets were deserted. The bars had all closed and businesses hadn’t opened yet. Twinkle lights lit the empty morning darkness, unseen by anyone but me. I found a place to sit among the figurines of a Nativity crèche and rested my head in the empty manger trying to fill the empty place inside that Dearie ha
