Poison

It was always the sweet reminder of how simple his life used to be, that drove him to mere insanity. And as he thought, once again, of the diamond on the nightstand, he unwillingly found himself parked in front of the local tavern. The bottle, was a means in which he could numb the feeling of failure; a means in which he could seemingly convince himself that he didn't need her. But as he pulled the key out of the ignition, he bowed his head in defeat.

As he walked into the bar, smoke formed around him like a thick, desolate fog encompassing the secrets of the broken hearted. Within moments, Jessica, his favorite bartender, presented the poison he so desperately craved; Johnny Walker on the rocks."How are you sweetheart?" she questioned as she crossed her arms over the bar directly in front of him. "You look like you have been through hell. Tough day on the job?"

Although he would rather be consumed in the allure of self-pity, he entertained her question. "I guess you could say that Jess. Crime scene was wiped cleaned. Impeccable, really. Bullet wound right through the chest." "I don't know how you do it Matson", she grimaced in disgust. "But, hell, I guess it pays the bills right?" she replied playfully, retrieving a bottle of vodka. "A whole lot more than what I make!" She smiled, as she walked over to a group of college girls and presented them the shots of vodka.

The bar on this particular evening was uncharacteristically slow, he thought to himself. And as he scanned the room, he saw the usual suspects; the unhappy husbands downing cheap lagers, the women with questionable morals, and of course the college girls who finally reached the legal drinking age. Sadly, he was one of them. "Jess, I need another one", he slurred as he lifted his glass up in the air. 

"Do I need to take your keys away from ya, Detective?" she winked as she poured him his drink. "No, I'll be fine. Either that or I can get one of the rookies from the station to pick me up." He joked. "As long as your safe, darling. Don't get me fired or anything."  She giggled, as he watched her full hips move around the bar. "What are your plans when you get out of here Jess?" he inquired, as he realized that the extent of his loneliness resulted in an offer to grab something to eat with the woman who fueled his addiction. "Me?" she replied somewhat surprised. "Yes, you. What are your plans when you get out of here?" 

"Well, I was just going to go home and go to bed." she whispered. "What did you have in mind? "Want to grab something to eat? he asked. "I have a couple things to ask you." "Such as..." she started. "Well, I'd prefer not to discuss it here. But, I do need to talk to you."

As a detective, he had become acutely aware of his surroundings and on this particular evening a piece of the puzzle, didn't seem to fit. "What time do you get off?" 

Pinterest/Whiskey