Usually Logan stuck to beer but tonight he was looking for something that could take the edge off better than a few brews.
One shot of whiskey, and then another. A tequila chased with a bit of gin. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence on July fifteenth considering he’d been doing it like clockwork for the past five years. Today was Casey’s birthday and nothing could erase the last parts of her other than something strong and neat.
Drinking himself into oblivion had not necessarily been the plan but when the amber fairy extended her arms out toward him he was helpless to stop himself from leaning into that strong embrace. And now he was sitting there in a dimly lit, sparsely populated bar chasing his tail down a rabbit hole of memories and wallowing in things he had no control over in the first place. His mama would have told him to get right with God but she was never right with him herself. Who needed a spirit guide that was cruel? He didn’t. Or at least he didn’t think that he did.
A booted foot was propped up on the chair opposite which was vacant. It was always vacant. He came, did his business, and left same as always. But this night he wanted to get good and forgetful before he made that journey home in the rain.
Throwing back the next shot Logan settled backward into the hard chair. He could feel the top biting into the fabric of his work clothes, pushing against skin and spine, against muscle. Shoulders hunched some as if he bore weigh too heavy for a man to carry. He was a mess; he knew it and he didn’t really care. Who was looking anyway? He wasn’t looking for saving, wasn’t looking for advice or for friends. He just wanted to forget and not remember. Maybe that would help with some of the pain. Or maybe he would just take it all with him and walk into the shadows a burdened but free man.