On the Wagon-an alcoholics dairy

Day Two

It’s always bad when you’re meeting up with friends after the night before. They keep telling me all the stupid little things I did, said. All the embarrassing stories, the laughs, the jokes, the complete and utter humiliation of the night on the tiles.

I’m not craving a drink. Yet.

But when I come downstairs and see my housemate sitting on the sofa, bottle of rich, ruby red wine on the coffee table, large glass of the colourful, intoxicating, gorgeous treat. An inviting glass next to the bottle, tempting me to sin. No. I must not waver, this addiction to the poison of the gods, as they must drink it every night it’s so good, can be overcome. I know it can. But, the scent so heavenly drifts across the room and tickles my taste buds, I can almost taste the ruby liquid encased in the emerald green bottle. Tempting, so tempting.

I race out of the room, leaving my housemate to wonder what’s up with me.

Day two is tempting.