Addiction
Just one more sip I promised myself as the fiery burgundy liquid swam down my throat. Okay, well one more should really do it. Ah ha! Numbness. Exactly what I had been searching for. A means to an end; a blanket of solace. I stumbled down to the gray couch and plopped my entire body down limb by limb. This was the life: no worries, no feelings, just me and my head.
Love—ew, no. Happiness… try again. Sweet, sweet indifference! The thoughts floated like clouds in the empty skies of my mind.
Step 1: take a large swig, until you start to feel light headed. Step 2: revel in the liberating satisfaction and power you have over your body. Step 3: if desired results have not yet been reached, repeat.
Who gave them license to smile? The balance of power always tilts in their favor! No matter, it doesn’t concern me. I have everything I need right here. Who cares what they’re doing? I’m the one having all the fun.
They can’t hear me. They never answer. They never come. Loneliness washed me to shore and back to the kitchen. Just one more sip, step 1, repeat.
I don’t have a problem, I’m fine, I swea—
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,857 Reviews
Hey there! Robbie here...
I have a real attraction to stories like this... or rather about these sorts of issues. It sucks that in today's world everyone is an addict of some kind, be it to food, substances, sex, etc.
I have to say that coming from a reader who has had quite a bit of experience in this area of life you should be proud of this work because I really enjoyed it.
When I first glanced at this piece I was like "oh wow, this is way too short." But honestly, I think that you nailed it. There's no description of the narrator's physical appearance, which I love because it really embodies the anonymity of the everyday addict. They could be anybody- man, woman, parent, child, etc.- which really gives the reader an opportunity to envision themselves as experiencing this firsthand. I will tell you straight out that any drunkard, junkie, or otherwise has had these exact thoughts running through their mind at one point if not at every point in their day. So anyone that has experienced this will instantly relate to this story.
"They can’t hear me. They never answer. They never come. Loneliness washed me to shore and back to the kitchen."
I love how the narrator begins with a front of nonchalance about the entire situation and then, after the first couple of shots, admits that in reality they totally hate how lonely and empty they really feel. Even a bottle of scotch has its limits on numbing the pain. I had a great time reading this. Keep up the good work!
Hi, there!
SlushySlapped here to review your story!
I didn't find any grammar/punctuation errors, so good job on that! I am very nit-picky about those.
This short story stood out to me. Probably a little more because I have someone very close to me who is an alcoholic, and he is very young to be one. Although, he would never admit it. He is often searching for that numbness, similar to the narrator.
This addict's goal and emotional state were depicted extremely well.
That last line:
I think that was the perfect ending. It's exactly what someone with a problem like this would say. And especially the way you cut it off.
Great job on this!
Keep writing!
You nicely captured what it'd be like to be an alcoholic.
Well I feel you did anyway. You used good descriptive language and kept the reader engaged.
Spot on.
However, I feel that the steps, though vital to the story, were a bit chunky. But I have a reputation for being fussy, so if you don't feel the step thing is a problem then no worries.
When i say chunky, I mean a tad untidy and that it clogs the flow a little bit. But again, I could be wrong.
Your story seems like a snapshot of a moment of despair. You nicely capture a feeling of hopelessness and self-deception.
It left me wondering who "they" were and why the writer feels so alienated from them. If you added a few sentences about something specific in the history between the writer and "them", it might have added another dimension to your story.I like your paragraph
In the phrase: "revel" didn't seem like the right word. It means Engage in lively and noisy festivities, esp. those that involve drinking and dancing. That seemed at odds with stumbling and plopping onto the grey couch. Would "marvel" be better?
I really liked your story. You painted a scene and an emotional state beautifully. Nice work!
Mmm... Works for me!
Though this short story doesn't really have a backstory or anything to clear up some of the questions that may be asked by a reader, it still was done very well.
What I get from this is, "I am an addict, this is what's going on in my mind when I am giving ing to my addiction."
The way that is protracted here, is quite fitting, if I do say so myself. It's kind of like a poem is someways, or uses odd saying and such, such as "Loneliness washed me to shore and back to the kitchen.", giving it a very enigmatic feel to it. I can't really say I understand it but I'm sure the next reader will.
~Ciao! Keep on writing!
~ The dark one.