THE BOTTLE

It was like most L-shaped living rooms with a galley kitchen connecting the dining room to the long hallway off which were the bedrooms and the bathroom. The living room was furnished with a chesterfield and a rocker chair with coffee table and matching end tables. There was a console T.V. and a small stand that held the telephone, a stereo; A dining-room set with table, chairs. a china cabinet, and in the corner a small liqueur cabinet.

The Bottle stood on the table in the dining-room, alongside of which was an upturned glass. It was just a regular type of glass that would hold a good shot, not like the glasses in the cabinet that just glistened and twinkled in the half light cast from within the kitchen. These glasses were very fine lead crystal, hardly the kind of a glass you would use for this type of drink.

The Bottle had been stood there for quite some time now, ever tempting forever luring, casting a devilish glint of it's own as the light reflected on the contents. A quiet soundless war was going on here in the confines of this place, witnessed by no-one but the combatants; on the left we have the rum Bottle undefeated in his last ten contests, on the right the challenger, determined not to be beaten again. The victories had over the years been too few and far between for her.

The story was not a new one, young and devil-may-care, and at too young an age, parties, fast cars, and drinking, the wrong kind of company. Now after two marriages both which turned out bad her only relief then as is now, was a drink. Those had been hard days in her life enough to drive anyone to drink. Still like fighting old Demons, the battle raged on as she fought with the aftermath.

She sat there aching and hurting inside, unconsciously playing with a ring on her finger, at times the anger and bitterness swelled up inside her. She glanced over at the table, " how could he do this to me" she thought." I trusted him and loved him so much; he was supposed to be here by now why doesn't he call, just what the hell did I do wrong?" She rose off the chesterfield looking out the window, as she approached the window she could see her reflection. A wry smile tugged the corners of her mouth, even at fifty she still cut a fine figure of a woman. She could still attract a man, "Rita" she thought, "what the hell is wrong with you ?"

She looked out the window, she could see the airport with all the different coloured lights down below, and the steady stream of traffic which wound its way along the road and the highway. She often mused at the quietness up here in spite of the closeness of the highway and in particular the airport. She glanced at her watch, still toying with her ring she paced back to the chesterfield; at the same time avoiding the ominous presence of the Bottle sitting almost leering at her on the table. She sat down again! This was the danger time, the time of self recrimination and still the Bottle sat gloating at her from the table! She sat there waiting and thinking how simple things used to be. She thought about when the war with the Bottle first began, it had been a long time; innocent at first, a drink was not a problem then and life was much more simple.

Once again her thoughts closed in on her, her mind started to race as the memories flooded back once more. She shook herself back to reality, she was trembling, in a cold sweat and her hands were shaking. She glanced towards the phone, her eyes catching the Bottle staring at her from the table, "I sure could use a, " ------ somehow she stopped herself.

"God" she thought, what a mess my life has been; sure, it had all been in the name of fun or good times. All the same it always seemed to turn out the same way, dances, parties, too much drinking, then she would meet or get involved with someone.They all seemed to want the same thing, boozing and bed; then the big letdown, now it didn't seem to really matter anymore. Was there really anyone out there who thought about anything else? She knew the rules and could play the game, but she always hoped that maybe one day she could meet the right guy and get away from all this.

"How did I let him get so close to me, I said it would never happen again. She was back in the present again, and watching the clock. No-one was ever going to hurt me anymore." Again she glanced over to the table, the Bottle sat there defiantly just twinkling and mocking her in the pale light defying and pushing her resistence to the limit. "Damn you!" she thought, "I can hide you in the cupboard," but what was the point, it could be brought out again just as easily as it was put there. Besides, she would have to pick the bottle up, why she left it there in the first place she never knew or so she thought. She was angry at her utter stupidity, Still the battle waged "I wonder what's on the tube?" She was jarred back to her senses as the phone rang out breaking the silence and the silent war. She reached over -" Hello" - She sat down at the dining room table to take the call. "But ! But you said!!" the conversation was breaking down, "You told me you were separated," Tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheek. "Damn you!! Damn You!!! you Bastard!" - She slammed the phone down, blinded by tears she reached for the Glass.

Eric Valentine April 8/94