poured out before bed
“So abstaining from alcohol – or even just cutting back – is not something you’d even be willing to try?” Dr. Hepato leans in. She looks hard at the grizzled gentleman perched on the hospital bed, his belongings in a bright yellow bag at his side, eager for discharge.
The patient puts one hand on his hip, points at Dr. Hepato loosely with the other, and sits back, widening the confrontational distance between them.
“Well, in the town I live in, we can’t afford a town drunk. So we all take turns. And I’ve missed two turns now, so they’re making me fill in for the village idiot.”
I smile on the outside, but all I can think of are his lately ruined and at risk insides.