Closure

I closed the doors and breathed in heavily. The home-made wine combined with antibiotics was messing up with my concentration so I can’t say I was fully aware of what had just happened. At some levels I suspected what I had just done, but it hadn’t really come to me. At least not yet.

I turned off the light in the corridor and came back to my room, where on the desk stood the unfinished bottle of the damned wine, with two empty glasses next to it. Damned, because I knew I would finish it on my own now, regardless of the antibiotics. Just to soothe my nerves; maybe to help me fall asleep later on.