Literature
Pillars
[POV: Lieutenant]
The glass before me is empty.
I drift in and out of existence, still bound to the prolonged agony of consciousness.
Let me die.
Tonight, like every night before it, I have shamed myself. I sit here, my face against the wooden counter of the bar, waiting for another drink. With my finger, I drag the coin around in circles, in endless, pointless circles.
"Give... me... another glass... of liquor," I mumble.
But the bartender's pity has turned to contempt.
"No more drinks for you, understood? You've had enough."
I slam my fist against the counter.
"Another glass!" I shout, unable to control my voice.
"I should have you throw