I almost killed Faith today.
My hands are shaking. Why can't I stop them?
I didn't mean to shoot her.
How much of this shit have I drank? If I can still remember the blood and her face then it's not enough.
When I got up this morning there were no warning signs that today was going to end the one thing that I have that is good in my life.
I need more whiskey. I can't think about this anymore
God, please make them stop.
Bosco drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Nothing was happening, not a damn thing.
Faith had finished the paperwork and they were sitting on the corner under a street lamp near a gas station. Faith stopped reading the report in front of her, glanced at his fingers, and sighed
"Bosco, stop, you’re driving me bananas doing that."
"Faith, I'm bored."
Bosco saw her roll her eyes and then close them. She was trying to stay calm. He loved bugging the hell out of her like this. Nothing else was going on tonight so he had to have fun somehow.
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