Lonely shadows following me
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
Lonely ghosts come a-calling
There was a moment of blissful silence where he was left alone, but it did not last long. Soon the woman was going off on an anecdote, that sounded dangerously like one of those 'when I was young' type stories, and though he tried not to listen, she was sitting too close and talked too loudly to completely shut out.
So far, she had no punch line. No moral to shove down his throat. Korbin pursed his lips, waiting, but when nothing more came, he couldn't help but respond to her.
"Is this your way of saying that you know what I'm going through?" he asked, with a slightly dangerous bite to his voice. "If you do, I really don't see why you think talking is going to help. But if this is some kind of cautionary tale about what I might stand to lose, don't bother. There's nothing left that I care about."
It could have sounded whiny and petulant, if it wasn't for the stark clarity of his eyes as he shot her a glance. Korbin was keenly aware of what his situation was like, and his drinking was done with perfect intent. Methodical, purposeful... indeed meaning to reach that very state she had mentioned as soon as possible.
And he was getting there. Could feel it, by the burn in his gut and the way the room had begun to swim before his eyes. Soon he would order a bottle and retreat to one of those crappy rooms, and keep drinking until he became well and truly unconscious. All in all, an evening well spent.
So far, she had no punch line. No moral to shove down his throat. Korbin pursed his lips, waiting, but when nothing more came, he couldn't help but respond to her.
"Is this your way of saying that you know what I'm going through?" he asked, with a slightly dangerous bite to his voice. "If you do, I really don't see why you think talking is going to help. But if this is some kind of cautionary tale about what I might stand to lose, don't bother. There's nothing left that I care about."
It could have sounded whiny and petulant, if it wasn't for the stark clarity of his eyes as he shot her a glance. Korbin was keenly aware of what his situation was like, and his drinking was done with perfect intent. Methodical, purposeful... indeed meaning to reach that very state she had mentioned as soon as possible.
And he was getting there. Could feel it, by the burn in his gut and the way the room had begun to swim before his eyes. Soon he would order a bottle and retreat to one of those crappy rooms, and keep drinking until he became well and truly unconscious. All in all, an evening well spent.
Thousand voices dead at my feet
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone
