Shot of Chest Burn


Another shot of chest burn
slam the glass down
hand in the air
“Bartender, another round”

He walks over
with bottle in tow
begins to pour,
“You may want to take it slow”

I look at him,
“Make it a double”
“All right,
but I don’t want any trouble”

“Troubles?
I have plenty”
He sets the bottle down
“Talk to me”

Shake my head
pick up the glass
smirk
pour it down,
“Let me tell you, she can kiss my a*@”

He smiled
“Women problems”
I answer, “Yeah”
“Well whiskey won’t solve ‘em”

“You have a better idea”
he paused, rubbed his chin
“Maybe”
“Tell me what it is
so I won’t feel like this again”



“Well first
hand me your keys”
“What for?”
He just said, “Trust me”

So I reach
into my pocket
toss them to him
then he says,
“Ok, now stop it”

“I don’t understand,
what do you mean”
“Drowning your problems,
it doesn’t do a thing”

“Oh so now you’re saying
I’m too drunk to drive
“Look buddy you’ll get over her
sure you’re hurting right but you’ll survive
but it’ll help if you’re alive”

At that point
that wasn’t what I was looking for
but I guess the moral to the story
is that I really don’t remember
too much more
the night passed
in a blur
and after trying to drink my problems away
I still miss her

Another excellently portrayed night in purgatory, mig.. your short story form is so easy to follow and identify with..

I still miss her, and now my head is killing me too...

entertaining and creative. Maybe another drink to help recover what was forgotten that night? Cheers

Single Barrel Jack Daniels, cheers and Leigh, you're right, my head is now pounding