I step out into the rain, an hour or two past unsteady. The half-empty bottle lists carelessly in my limp hand, and I pay no mind to it until it shatters against the sidewalk. Shit, I thought. There goes another bottle of booze.
Stepping and swaying over the shards, I tried to ignore the fact there were at least a pile of seven, now. All had that same grey, rain-faded label that of Grey Skies. I was the only one who drank Grey Skies, anymore. Too cheap. Too watered down. Too whatever else the customers wanted to complain about today.
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A Drabble a Day
RandomDrabble. A story that is exactly 100 words. I'll be doing one every single day of this year (2021). A Drabble a Day. A new scene, a new story, a new character, a new musing, a new thought, every single day - until this hits 36,500 words and holds 36...
