Richie

Richie

Richie staggered up the airy flight of stairs with only a bottle of chilled liquor clasped in his cold stiff hands.

“One green bottle standing on the wall… one green bottle standing on the wall…” he sang drunkenly as he trudged upwards, absolutely oblivious to the shocked stares his workers threw at him as he walked past.

Truth is, he didn’t even notice they were staring nor did he care if they actually did.

He rubbed his hands again and again across his face to stop himself from falling asleep as he walked but that seemed as impossible as walking on eggshells and praying that it does not crack.

His body suddenly shook with a kind of cold that he hadn’t experienced before but then he couldn’t quite explain if it was as a result of the weather or due to how cold he actually felt inside.

He couldn’t bring himself to talk to anyone about how he truly felt…about how his dreams were constantly plagued with memories of Kate and how he felt he would go crazy soon if nothing was done a