Audio Books →The Priest by Damon Russo

It had been a nightmare. Then I remembered, not entirely and my tears returned.
They were not purely selfish. They were not just for me as my thoughts had turned to our mum. As I licked the salty droplets that had arrived at my dry and broken lips the grief mutated into a frustrated rage. I stood up, grabbing the bottle off the floor and launched it against the bedroom wall. With glass shattering predictability, it fragmented into hundreds of pieces, releasing its contents and leaving a colorless damp scar on the white-washed wall. The stench of ethanol struck my nose hard, making me flinch. And then, in that intense moment of furious futility the mist lifted just enough. Crunching broken glass under foot, I grabbed my coat.
It was time for a confrontation.