by J.A. Tyler
Drink liquor down down the gullet and thinking back remember when. Then think forward and smash fists through walls and bloody knuckles and break a bone or two. Then cry. Then shiver. Then shake. Then sleep the slumber of a drunk and a thief and a liar and a cheat who knows nothing better than whiskey and wine and beer and sadness.
J.A. Tyler has featured work in (or appearing soon in) The Feathertale Review, Thieves Jargon, Underground Voices, and Word Riot. He is also founding editor of Mud Luscious. Check out more here.