I Wake Up (Prelude to a Novel) November Update.

by Jim Kopetz

I wake up. Two shots of bourbon and a lukewarm beer. I light a cigarette and drift back off to sleep. I burn myself and wake up. Another shot of bourbon, another lukewarm beer. A hit of strong grass. I'm up.

I get into the shower with two beers. I dry myself off with none. Two eggs on the flattop. Two pieces burnt toast. Grapefruit juice with grapefruit vodka. Two apples and a banana. I throw up. Two .5 mg klonopins and 100 mg of sertraline. Two hits of grass and I'll keep it all down.

One pair of socks. One pair underpants. One wife-beater, one pair of jeans. Old spice deodorant. Long sleeve under, short on top. Brush the hair, apply headband and top it off with a panama hat. Ready to go. One more hit for the road.

Work. KP duty. Kitchen Prep for those outside the business. Heads of lettuce and dressings to be cut and filled. It was shit work but without it I'd never have met her.
My angel.  Working overtime selling shots to soldiers off-duty, simply to feed her brood.

My name is Silas Greene, and I am.

Some men talk of destiny, others downfall, but my legacy was always part of a different chapter. I am the outsider. I am the fiend. Follow enough politics and all water becomes blood, and every faucet needs a tourniquet.

She entered the room with a scent, a fragrance I had difficulty placing. She entered like a wildfire. It was like the spiritual mundane.

"I've got a story for you."

"Good." I needed one.