GIN ALLEY His sides throbbed and ached. The evening's festivities resonated in his head.

A yellow taxi ride forsaked in favor of walking, though like the dead. He lit up a smoke, then took a toke and felt the world slip further by as he let out a pleasured sigh and stumbled on down nightime's lane. Later he woke up in a drain the cool water laughing at his face. He seemed almost conscious now, in any case the world was not spinning so lopsidedly. In fact, the place he saw was decidedly different than what he remembered. His smokes were wet and dismembered. So, he rolled over and sat up. Then promptly he threw up. And up and up. At last he stood and reached behind him. Reached for the bottle in his pocket, his eye pounding in reddened deep socket. Though he was not sure he should he went out on a limb and drank a swig of rotgut gin. The sun came up and found him there, the puke and water all in his hair. Broken bottle and broken smokes, he could take no deep drawn tokes. Now the subject of oft told jokes, his memory gone in mindless stare as lifeblood flowed down a back alley stair. --------------------------------mindbringer, 6 September 2012