dinner with agent stone, agent atlanta, we discuss the past, our adventures. i see some photo's of us together having some good times. i eat some nice food with apricots in it, we talk about our stupid junkie friends and the twins who once seduced me with their feminine charms, we talked of weekends away and trips, we spoke about things that matter and things that don't.
i wander home followed by a woman who can't walk straight, an early exit from the pub, a casualty, she stumbles and falls and clambers up again, she's slurring her words.
'you okay?'
'yeah i had a few drinks, just going home.'
'well take it easy, you got far to go?'
she can't answer, she can't even think, she's a zombie.
the vodka entity has taken her soul.
lost.
i go home, get into bed and sleep fast and deep.