02-26-2022, 09:45 AM
[[CW: Alcoholism. Piss.]]
It was the middle of the day, in the middle of the week. The sun was high, the services were over.
The woman struggled, first, with getting the door open. Perhaps it was not as obvious from the other side, with just a rattle, rattle, rattle of the hinges being coaxed the wrong way. It was more obvious when one door flung open, Anita’s small, harried form clinging to the door’s handle like a drowning woman to driftwood.
She dropped from it, head down, hands grasping steps with a sway more suited for a ship than the perfectly still ground. To her feet, it was another precarious sway. But she caught the edge of the door, and at that point looked up. Bloodshot eyes peered blearily into the church, sighted yet unseeing. Her amble forward was determined … yet she veered consistently right, and right, despite half her body angled to the front.
The smell of beer, sweat … and piss, filled the sanctum.
It was the middle of the day, in the middle of the week. The sun was high, the services were over.
The woman struggled, first, with getting the door open. Perhaps it was not as obvious from the other side, with just a rattle, rattle, rattle of the hinges being coaxed the wrong way. It was more obvious when one door flung open, Anita’s small, harried form clinging to the door’s handle like a drowning woman to driftwood.
She dropped from it, head down, hands grasping steps with a sway more suited for a ship than the perfectly still ground. To her feet, it was another precarious sway. But she caught the edge of the door, and at that point looked up. Bloodshot eyes peered blearily into the church, sighted yet unseeing. Her amble forward was determined … yet she veered consistently right, and right, despite half her body angled to the front.
The smell of beer, sweat … and piss, filled the sanctum.
