norman {four} fin cb

norman wei . 43 . district four

A drunken sailor, as your daughter calls you. Through the hangover, her words are scraggily to your ears. Not like your hearing was good normally. You drank since you were young, and it became a habit, but you drank even more when your wife died. Your kids had no where to go, you didn't want to look at them, they had her eyes. They didn't look like you, with sea green eyes and balding head, only patches of blonde remaining. They had her dark red hair.

You were smart, once, before the drinking began. You still go fishing, as it is the only thing that calms you. The reeling of the pole and the smell of the fish. The vodka still burns your throat, but until the pain goes away you'll drink the night away. Maybe you'll be with your wife one day.