Day 26

The wind rustled the leaves as it brushed by with summery ease. He stood with a cautious unease at the corner of Fifth and Ninth, coffee in hand and cigarette in the other. A strong industrial scent of grit and smoke assaulted his nostrils as he watched the grey lifeless shadows pass him by.

Hearing the sound of a thump on the sidewalk followed by a high-pitched screech, his eyes widened as he noticed the furry brown puppy scamper into a nearby alley.

A soft and warm female voice rang out, splitting the sound of the city, as she chased after her pet. “Can someone please get my dog?” she exclaimed, as she tripped and fell onto the coarse pavement below.

Muttering under his breath, “Not my dog, not my problem,” as he exhaled a nicotine-stained breath. “26 days, 26 of the longest days of my life. Get sober they said! Life will be easier, bollox, I’ve never smoked or drank so much coffee and what is sleep anymore.” he added a tormented tone overshadowing his sense of self.

Struggling to get back to her feet, her eyes meet his in a pleading glance. “Aer you just going to stand there and watch or are you going to help a damsel in distress?”

“Do I look like a white knight on a horse? Madam. Your dam dog is your responsibility, not mine!” he responded sharply.

Her eyes narrowed with all the contempt she could muster as she hauled herself to her feet. “Maybe what they say is true of humanity these days, what happened to the age of chivalry?”

e smirked as he flicked his still-lit smoke to the pavement opposite. “Chivalry is back in the Victorian era and I ain’t standing here wearing a top hat now, am I!”

She rolled her eyes, giving him a bratty look, “Well I AIN’T wear’n no hooped skirt and a corset now am I, Sir,” she snapped back at him.

A rye grin appeared over his face as his mind raced to find a witty retort, “Maybe you should have, Miss. It may have caused a different outcome.”

Glaring at him with sadistic pleasure, she exclaimed, “You mean you would help me if I looked like that image you have stuck in your mind, Sir,”

“What do you mean?” he stammered, momentarily confused.

“Oh now Sir, I think we both know what we are truly talk’n about here,” she replied confidently.

“Get sober they said. Life will get easier they promised. What is it with sobriety and crazy women? Do I just attract them or does God just hate me.” he spoke harshly but quietly to himself. “Madam, you have a look about you that is saying you either want to f..k me or kill me. To be honest, the way I’m feeling today, both seem like an equal proposition.” he frustratingly countered.

“You going to kiss me or stay there perplexed for the rest of your days, Sonny boy,” she hollered at him.

Quietly he took his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, flicking the bottom of the carton sternly with his fingers, causing a single smoke to pop out of the pack. As he placed it in his mouth, lighting it, he smiled, “The only lady I’m going to be kissing is my wife,” he said as the glowing embers glistened over his wedding ring.

*****

Author's Note: This can be read as a cautionary tale against addiction, or as a humorous account of all of the insanity my co-author, Raven, encounters regularly.