No one knows when it started or why it started. It just sort of started. Gradually. If you could have seen him back in the day, you would hardly know him as the man you see slouched in the corner over there. Devoted husband. Loving father. He walked away from them you know. Staggered away more like. They’ve never got over it. Rotten sod.
He always liked a beer or two, who doesn’t. Life and soul of the party was our Mac. But one day the booze set him on a downhill slope. You see that glass he’s clutching now? You know what’s in it? Absinthe. Absinthe Blue. Seventy-eight percent you know. Yep. Seventy-eight bloody percent!
Just look at him slouched in the corner. No, not him, me. Look at me. I’m not just mumbling to myself, mumbling about myself. Seeing myself as others see me. Ashamed of what I’ve become. I could give it up. It would be easy. ‘My name is Mac and I’m an alcoholic’. Loud applause. ‘Well done Mac’. You’ve jumped the first hurdle’ Bugger that. Load of do-gooders. I’m all right. I am, aren’t I? Yes, I’m all right. I’m….I’m…..can somebody help me, please? Where have you all gone? Is there anybody there? Please?
Post 1660
Keith's Ramblings 
So profound, Keith! People start, and life starts to slide, and they drink to cover the pain. things really go south and they drink to forget.
I’ve a dear friend who was in a car, all three of them drunk, when they ran a stop sign, hit and killed “a fine upstanding young man.” She told me ten years later that never a day goes by but what her mind replays that scene. Yet it’s only one in a lifetime of sad scenes.
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I cannot imagine what it must be to live with such a memory. When I first started driving, there were no drink-drive limits in force – there but for the grace of him up there!
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Addiction is the definition of a slippery slope. It is always someone else that has the problem, until that day you recognize the reflection in the mirror as yourself.
Excellent story. The simplicity of it reflects how easy it is to fall down that slope.
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I wrote this some time ago almost as a reminder to myself how easy it must be to slip. Thanks KJ
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I enjoy your writing style, even when the topic is on the darker side of life. I lost a younger brother to alcoholism and have seen first hand the sorrows of the affliction. I wonder what Rosie would have to say😊
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That’s very kind of you. I’m really sorry about your brother. I’m sure it has a sobering effect on those he left behind.Rosey would probably have one less glass of Chardonnay!
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I was married to an alcoholic and to this day I do not understand the attraction of alcohol over all else.
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It’s far more common than we think I’m sure.They become expert at hiding it. Thanks, Denise.
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I feel really bad for his family.
Wonderfully written story.
You are such a versatile writer, Keith.
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Thank you, Moon. After three weeks of back to back Rosey stories, I was desperate for a change of mood hence this piece!
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But I am really enjoying the Rosey stories. Thanks for the great three weeks. Look forward to reading the next one, tomorrow:
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A poor fellow who fell down that slippery slope. Great characterization in this. I fee like I know him. Seems he has gone blind form the absinthe, yes?
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Thanks so much. Absinthe can be pretty brutal stuff!
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You’ve captured the life-cycle of an alcoholic in a remarkable voice. I grew up in an alcoholic home and have always been aware that I walk a fine line when it comes to how I deal with problems in life. Well done.
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I’m glad I got it right! Happily, I have never experienced it with family or friends – or myself for that matter and hopefully, it will stay that way. Thanks Susan
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Such a sad story, and a great insight into how the cycle perpetuates itself. The way you changed perspectives partway through the story, showing that he was talking about himself, was like pulling it into a more intimate focus: not just “him over there” but (this could be) “me.” Great effect.
That said, I love absinthe! But not in large quantities. That’s a waste of fine alcohol, to not be able to taste it anymore.
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The first stage in getting over a problem has to be to recognise and accept it. As for absinthe, I always had it on hand when I lived in France, but I haven’t had a drop since. Mmmm, I wonder! Thanks so much Joy.
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It does seem more of a “when in France” type of drink, I can see that.
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You captured the sad state of alcoholic very well. Nicely written.
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Kind of you to say so, thanks so much.
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Powerful story, Keith, expertly constructed and with a brutal denouement.
Excellent
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That really is most kind of you.It’s not my normal style but now and again it’s worth heading off in a new direction.
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So much pain. Well told.
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Thanks mimi
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That was dark and hard-hitting.
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Thank you Anurag
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Beautifully written.
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That’s very kind of you, thank you.
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