Damian
I leave my wet clothes in the pool room and head back inside but the front door is locked. Sh*t! Why had I not realized that it would be? Drunk me had learned that the hard way. Still grief-stricken I walk back to the pool room, clad in only shorts worried now that Bryan would know I had been out.
I need alcohol. Walking back to the fridge I take out a H*ineken and swallowed the contents in one swig. I open another and took it with me to the shower, rinsing the smell of mud and Scout’s decaying body off me. Even the taxi man had been a bit skeptical about letting me inside. He’s said I stank and wanted to know if he should call the cops. He had even pulled out his cell phone to prove to me he had been serious.
I’d only said, “Just buried my dog,” and he’d muttered, “Sh*t,” then g
