11-25-2020, 07:57 AM
He sat propped up against the grimy brick wall; a dark blue dumpster on his right and his
lost future walking out of that alleyway on his left. Eight bottles of Thunderbird a day had
finally taken their toll. He wasn't even drunk and the whole world was spinning. Leaning forward
on his hands and knees, Koala Jesus puked his guts up and cried for his sins. It was time for
him to either get up and live or just lay down in that pool of lukewarm vomit and die.
That brick wall felt like a down comforter after emptying his stomach. He wasn't sure if he could
walk or not but as soon as he was able he knew exactly where to go.
Three weak knocks on the door. Several seconds lapse before footsteps can be heard. When the door
opens, a familiar face. It's been too long.
"Goddamn, you look like dogshit. And I mean that in the nicest possible way."
"I need your help. I need it bad." Koala said before breaking down in tears.
"Get the fuck in here..."
Koala Jesus was a life-long bridge-burner. Every last friend. Family members didn't count, they had
no choice but to love him, even if only from a distance. But in all of his havoc and distasteful debauchery
he managed to keep a very tenuous hold on the one friendship that mattered: Pauly Penguin.
"Just keep walking to the bathroom, peel off and get right in the shower!" Pauly said.
Koala did as his friend instructed. He couldn't remember the last time he felt clean, warm water
cascading down his disgustingly filthy body. This would be nice. Even if he did throw up. Four times.
Pauly Penguin went way back with Koala. They seen it all. Up, down, good, bad, drunk tank choirs
and empty train car rides from Fresno to Nashville. It was always a joy to see his friend but there was
something terribly wrong with him this time and Pauly didn't know if he could bring him back.
Koala staggers into the living room after a nice long cleaning to be met with a steaming hot
cup of black coffee. Pauly hands it to him and they both sit at the table.
"How many days ya got?" asked Pauly.
"Days of what?"
"Sober. How many?"
Koala didn't want to lie, but in all truth he couldn't even remember. Was it just today? Two days?
Cheap wine had that effect. Everything just blurred into an orangey-brown haze and left you with
nothing but a dry mouth and years of regret.
"The longer you take, the less I'm gonna believe you!"
"I don't fucking know!" Koala shot with frustration.
Pauly could always tell when his friend was being truthful. It was one of the perks of knowing him
for so many years. And not only that, he loved the prick. Concessions would need to be made.
"We'll just count from tomorrow, what do ya say?" Pauly offered.
Koala took a sip from his cup. "Yeah, sounds good."
They talked for another hour before Pauly went to bed. Koala sat up a little while after that to gather
his thoughts. He also couldn't remember the last time he slept indoors. This was all so strange.
He curled up on that soft, warm couch and in mere minutes gave up the ghost.
Morning was gonna hurt.
lost future walking out of that alleyway on his left. Eight bottles of Thunderbird a day had
finally taken their toll. He wasn't even drunk and the whole world was spinning. Leaning forward
on his hands and knees, Koala Jesus puked his guts up and cried for his sins. It was time for
him to either get up and live or just lay down in that pool of lukewarm vomit and die.
That brick wall felt like a down comforter after emptying his stomach. He wasn't sure if he could
walk or not but as soon as he was able he knew exactly where to go.
Three weak knocks on the door. Several seconds lapse before footsteps can be heard. When the door
opens, a familiar face. It's been too long.
"Goddamn, you look like dogshit. And I mean that in the nicest possible way."
"I need your help. I need it bad." Koala said before breaking down in tears.
"Get the fuck in here..."
Koala Jesus was a life-long bridge-burner. Every last friend. Family members didn't count, they had
no choice but to love him, even if only from a distance. But in all of his havoc and distasteful debauchery
he managed to keep a very tenuous hold on the one friendship that mattered: Pauly Penguin.
"Just keep walking to the bathroom, peel off and get right in the shower!" Pauly said.
Koala did as his friend instructed. He couldn't remember the last time he felt clean, warm water
cascading down his disgustingly filthy body. This would be nice. Even if he did throw up. Four times.
Pauly Penguin went way back with Koala. They seen it all. Up, down, good, bad, drunk tank choirs
and empty train car rides from Fresno to Nashville. It was always a joy to see his friend but there was
something terribly wrong with him this time and Pauly didn't know if he could bring him back.
Koala staggers into the living room after a nice long cleaning to be met with a steaming hot
cup of black coffee. Pauly hands it to him and they both sit at the table.
"How many days ya got?" asked Pauly.
"Days of what?"
"Sober. How many?"
Koala didn't want to lie, but in all truth he couldn't even remember. Was it just today? Two days?
Cheap wine had that effect. Everything just blurred into an orangey-brown haze and left you with
nothing but a dry mouth and years of regret.
"The longer you take, the less I'm gonna believe you!"
"I don't fucking know!" Koala shot with frustration.
Pauly could always tell when his friend was being truthful. It was one of the perks of knowing him
for so many years. And not only that, he loved the prick. Concessions would need to be made.
"We'll just count from tomorrow, what do ya say?" Pauly offered.
Koala took a sip from his cup. "Yeah, sounds good."
They talked for another hour before Pauly went to bed. Koala sat up a little while after that to gather
his thoughts. He also couldn't remember the last time he slept indoors. This was all so strange.
He curled up on that soft, warm couch and in mere minutes gave up the ghost.
Morning was gonna hurt.
