Sinking Deeper

Old stuff again but still living it.

This first time
You beckon me with your open arm.
You beckon me with your cunning charm.
I see
I believe
I embrace you and succumb to your warmth.
I float this first time.

This second time
You beckon me with your open arm.
You beckon me with your cunning charm.
I see
I believe
I embrace you and succumb
to what I believe to what
will be your warmth.
Instead the warmth is replaced
by an icy grip.
Against my will, This time I sink.
This second time.

This third time.
You bexkon me with your open arm.
You beckon me with your cunning charm.
I see
I want to believe
I tentatively embrace you.
I once again succumb to your icy grip
I sink deeper
this third time.

All these times,
you beckon me with your open arm.
You beckon me with your cunning charm.
I no longer want to see.
I no longer believe.
Yet I still embrace you.
I still sucxumb to your icy grip.
I sink deeper aand deeper.

I wonder when I will touch bottom.


The Demon Lurking in the Shadows

Head over to STMND to read a wonderfully written account of what it means to grow up in an alcoholic household.

Stories that Must Not Die

Please welcome Susan from Polysyllabic Profundities with a story about being the child of alcoholic parents. This post was originally published on Black Box Warnings.

The words that grip me today are saturated with reality. They come from a place of experience. They come from a place of sadness. But they also come from a place of honesty.

Disease is a long and winding road. I am an adult child of alcoholic parents. There have been reams written on the subject, some of it is familiar to me and some seems to be a language from another planet. Each child who has grown up with the same label I have experiences life in a completely different way. No two children live within the same defined constraints of alcoholism and no two children will ever see the disease in the same way. My brother and I grew up in the same…

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prompt: you write the ending

He stepped into the street, the dust swirled around his boots and the wind tugged at the edge of his stained trencher.  The miles had not been kind to it, but it continued to hold together, just like him.  He leaned into the gale, ducking his head so the current wouldn’t get under the brim and send his hat sailing down the deserted road, and his coat’s tails whipped to attention.  The saloon door closed behind him and he was free of its clinging smells and dreams.

The drink remained, though.  Even when it was gone, it was never far away.  Of the stains on his soul, it wasn’t the darkest or the largest.

The tastes of the night remained strong on his tongue even as the morning sun warmed his shoulders.  He coughed into the weather beaten fist of his left hand, having learned long ago to never allow his right hand, his gun hand, to stray too far from the holstered shooter.  Thinking about it, he reached for the butt and was comforted by the reassuring feel of the smooth sandalwood grip.

Despite the demons in his head he smiled.  He knew what kind of man he had become, he knew the true source of the worst of his stains, but it no longer troubled him like it used to.

His stained soul was part of him.

His eyes scanned the empty stretch of road, squinting against the blistering light, and no shadows betrayed the stillness.  He considered pulling the iron and waking the town with chaos and blood.  He considered turning around and having another drink, or two.  Or three…

His smile broadened, mischievously, maliciously, and he…

Revis and Matticus Save the Kingdom, Chapter 19

“Damn,” Revis swore.

“What,” the still slightly inebriated Twindaddy asked.

“Jaded is the one who sent us through the portal,” Matticus answered. Turning to Revis he said, “So…trap?”

“Trap,” he replied with a nod.

“Are we going in?”

“It ain’t but a few hours out.”

“Yeah, but remember the part where it’s a trap?”

Twindaddy interrupted the serenity of the moment by questioning, “Hey geniuses, why don’t you find out what’s on the other side of the portal before you go rushing in?”

“That’s a great idea,” Revis sarcastically shot back. “Why didn’t I think of that? Oh yeah, that’s right. It’s because we won’t be able to see what’s on the other side of the portal until we cross through it!”

“Why don’t you just ask Elyse?”

“Who’s Elyse?”

“She knows everything.”

“And just how long will it take us to reach this Elyse,” Matticus queried skeptically.

With an exasperated sigh, Twindaddy pointed to his computer monitor. “You see that glowing device right there? I can talk to just about anyone in the world on that thing instantaneously.”

“It can do that? I thought you said magic doesn’t work here…”

“It’s not….you know what? Never mind. Just let me handle this.”

Twindaddy sat down in front of the strange looking device and started furiously clicking away on another strange looking device that rested on the desktop between him and the glowing screen.  Revis and Matticus exchanged glances, and when his Knight shrugged his shoulders, Matticus asked, “I thought you said you could talk to anyone you wanted instantly?”

Twindaddy replied curtly, exasperated, “I am.”

After another exchange of glances with his Knight that included a raised eyebrow, Matticus replied, “You don’t appear to be talking at all.”

Twindaddy stopped typing and glared at Matticus, and then flicked his eyes to his brother, “Can you keep him quiet for two minutes so I can get this done and get you two out of my life.”

“He’s a Jester, he doesn’t know how to be quiet.”

Twindaddy sighed, shot Matticus another dagger laced glare, and then went back to working on the glowing device.

Matticus thought about egging Twindaddy on by starting to sing a song, or something else to pester the man, just to be annoying.  But, opted against it, and instead turned to Revis and whispered, “Can’t we just kill him and be done with this?  I’m sure if we stepped into the portal we could find our way back to the kingdom eventually.”

“We could,” Revis opined, “but who knows what is now waiting for us on our side of the portal? Let’s just see what this fortune teller of his says first.”

“If you two ladies are done talking about your hair,” Twindaddy interrupted, “I’ve got something here.”

“What’s wrong with my hair,” Matticus asked, confused.

Ignoring him, Twindaddy continued, “Elyse says that if you throw a Murphy’s Law at the portal, it’ll let you see what’s on the other side of it.”

“What’s a Murphy’s Law?”

“It’s a special drink made at the bar up the street.” When both Matticus and Revis shot him skeptical looks, he argued, “Read it yourselves if you don’t believe me.”

Revis looked where he was pointing, but it seemed like a bunch of gibberish to him. “Is that what it says,” came Matticus’ question.

“Yeah,” Revis answered, even though he didn’t know if it was true or not. “Let’s get to this bar.”

“Wait a minute,” Twindaddy raised his voice. “We may have been able to get away with you guys being in your armor in Drun’s world, but that won’t work here. You’ll need to put on normal clothes.”

“No,” Revis denied. “Our armor does not come off. You’ll just have to think of something else.”

With a string of curses, Twindaddy grabbed some large white cloths out of the portal closet and wrapped them around each of the men. “If anyone asks,” he said after he was done, “just say you’re Amish.”

The trio left the dwelling, and while Matticus felt obliged to warn Twindaddy that his defenses needed serious upgrades, the pace and chaos of the outside world kept him too distracted to say anything during the short trip to the bar.

There were horseless carriage contraptions that were speeding along paved roads faster than looked safe.  There were people running next to those roads, but when Matticus and Revis looked, prepared to jump into action and rescue the runners, it didn’t seem like they were being chased by anyone or anything.  The dwellings all looked soft, easily taken by a wandering band of miscreants, but there were larger buildings that reached up into the heavens that seemed to be more solidly fortified.  Though, they were all made out of glass, which didn’t make sense at all.

The minds of both the Knight and the Jester were reeling when Twindaddy pushed them into a building with a, “here we are.”  And they were instantly flooded with relief.  The bar looked like a bar, smelled like a bar, and was as familiar to them as any bar would be in their own world.  It was a welcome relief after the stress and chaos of the journey there.

“Hey Twindaddy,” Bardictale said from behind the bar where he was busily polishing glasses, “What can I get you?”

“You again,” Revis cried.

“Great,” Bardictale sighed. “It’s the snake again.”

“So, you recognize us this time?”

“Never seen you before in my life. Now order something, and pay me up front for it, or get the hell out.”

“We need a Murphy’s Law,” Twindaddy ordered, “But I need it to go.”

With a raised eyebrow, the bartender asked, “You know I’m not legally allowed to let you take alcohol out of here, right?”

“The quicker you get it to me, and let me leave with it, the quicker you’re rid of the snake.”

“Sold,” Bardictale exclaimed as he took the weird, green paper Twindaddy was holding out.

“You guys use paper as money,” Matticus queried. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s easier to carry than gold,” Twindaddy pointed out.

“But it’s so much more fragile. It can rip or burn.”

Before the argument could continue, Bardictale walked back over to them with a cup. “Here’s your Murphy’s Law,” the bartender grumbled. Pointing at Revis, he added, “Now get him out of my sight.”

Revis opened his mouth to offer a retort, but Twindaddy grabbed his brother and dragged him away from the counter before the Knight could let loose the series of insults he had prepared to hurl.  Matticus chuckled under his breath as the three of them left the calmness of the bar and returned to the chaos of outside, where he then cursed, and wished he’d thought to grab a drink before they’d left.

Soon enough though they had managed to return to Twindaddy’s domicile.  They quickly shuffled into the closet where Twindaddy turned on the strange light again and swung open the portal.

“Now what?”  Revis asked.

“Throw the drink through.”  Twindaddy replied with a shrug.

“That’s absurd, how is that going to tell us anything?”

“Yeah, sounds like alcohol abuse,” Matticus added, with a forlorn look towards the soon to be doomed drink.

“Are you sure you read the instructions correctly?” Revis asked.

“I showed them to you, didn’t I?”

Not wanting to admit that they couldn’t read the words of this world, Revis and Matticus shrugged.  Then the Knight grabbed the Murphy’s Law out of his brother’s hand and threw it through the portal.

a bad drink

He stumbled in, reeking of the 3 he’d already visited that night, “I’m doing a Halloween pub crawl!”  His words were amazingly clear despite his obvious drunkenness.  The other patrons glanced over their drinks to glare at the man who shattered their silent revelry of dark thoughts.

He slammed his wallet, soggy from the night’s travels, on the bar.  Sighing, the bartender stepped down the length of the counter, “What’ll you have?”

“A Zombie!” He laughed in reply, grinning too widely.

“A Zombie?

“That’s right, it’s a rum drink with…”

“I know what it is,” the bartender turned his back on the man to grab the necessary bottles and put his mixing degree to work.  Who goes out on Halloween to get drunk on novelty drinks?  He could understand the rest of his customers, loners who wanted to avoid the door to door tyrants reminding them of the families they didn’t have.  But they just quietly sipped on their beers and waited until it was safe to return home.

The drink complete, he turned back to the drunk and pushed it across the bar, “Here you go.  That’ll be $7.50.”

He pulled out a damp ten dollar bill, “Keep the change.”  Then he refolded the wallet, stuffed it back into his pants pocket, and lifted the drink, “Cheers!  And may the spooks and ghouls of the evening leave you be.”  With that, he tilted back the drink and poured the concoction down his throat in one go.

He stood from his stool, even more wobbly than he had been when he walked in, and stumbled to the exit.  “Don’t let the night get you down.  The spirits can’t get you if you are happy.”  Then with a little wave he pushed the door open and disappeared.

The parting message gave the bartender goose-bumps but he had forgotten the whole thing ten minutes later.  The voice came from behind him as he was locking up, “I’m one of the ghouls.  Now, where’s my smile?”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Word Count: 333

Written in response to this week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge:

usually zombi
:  the supernatural power that according to voodoo belief may enter into and reanimate a dead body
:  a will-less and speechless human in the West Indies capable only of automatic movement who is held to have died and been supernaturally reanimated
:  a person markedly strange in appearance or behavior
:  a person held to resemble the so-called walking dead;especially :  automaton
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
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