Moonshiner

[Lysander]

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The children were gone. Emwe, Jake, Conor, Oliver. The names blurred in his head, the more he drank the more he became unsure of which names he had christened them with and which ones were their birth names. It didn’t matter because he wouldn’t be using any of them anymore. Stumbling along the path he threw back another bottle, emptying it this time and tossing it behind him. The path he had taken from Phoenix Valley was littered with little brown bottles; he normally did not drink beer and found that he went through more bottles than he did of whiskey or rum. Later he would trace his way back home with these, but he probably wouldn’t pick them up. Coming to the beach he found that he couldn’t travel much further, unless he wished to wade into the ocean, which he thought he might. The children that had been taken from him weren’t the only he decided to drink himself into oblivion, but then again he didn’t much of a reason at all. Sinking into the sand, the steel grey husky tossed the sack next to him, the bottles clinking together—threatening to break. In response Ly drew out another one, popping off the cap and bringing it to his lips. His movements were already automatic, he had been quenching this thirst since noon and the night was drawing near.

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