You could see Adam feel something in his bones, almost like it flipped a switch in his head. As if you could see his thoughts saying, “Booze shatters my equilibrium! Why should I be a martyr for the alcohol industry when all it does is strip me of my identity?” He finally chose to fly rather than expire at the altar called the bar, where he had one bottle after another and one battle after another, gasping for stability while alcohol forced him to falter to a crawl instead of living. 

Adam took his life back for good this time.

16 thoughts on “Sober

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