Her step father was more of a beast than human; short, compact, with a face of a pan. His words came out wet and knotted. "Did you bring me a drink?" he asked, already drooling about. "yes!" I answered pulling out and handing him the bottle of whiskey that I had bought for him. "Do you drink?" he asked. "yes" I said again, "well! you shouldn't." he said. I could sense that bastard was being greedy. I eyed him to let him know that I knew what a greedy son of a bitch he was. he uncapped the bottle and made himself a drink at my expense. he gave me a sheepish smile as if to claim his victory. He turned on the TV and sat there drinking.He drank incessantly. From morning till noon, and noon till night.
I had bought an extra bottle for myself and for her. we went upstairs to her room and sat there drinking and kissing and laughing and trading inanities and smoldering each other on thick cigarette smoke. By the time it got dark we were steaming hot. I decided to skip the dinner that night. she insisted that her step father would go crazy without food. "that son of a bitch" I thought. we went downstairs. The TV was still on. smoke was still rising from the ashtray. Half poured whiskey was on the table in front of him. His hands were hanging by the sides of the chair and head was resting on his shoulder, he was drooling from the side of his mouth. She went up to him to wake him up but he wouldn't wakeup. That was the last of him. That bastard couldn't even finish off his drink.

© Su_tshant