Insanity -- Joseph Lynch


Insanity -- Joseph Lynch


My head pounded like a steel spike was imbedded deep into my forehead. I managed to open my eyes a sliver against the morning light. Sprawled in a small bedroom, the bureau, dresser, and bookcase all of inexpensive wood veneer appeared familiar. A closet, its door ajar, revealed a bright peach blouse with a ruffled front. An image of a woman with bright blue accusing eyes formed in my mind - Naomi. Her name brought me peace. I had made it home.

I lay as if dead hoping to slip back into the bliss of unconsciousness but the pain kept me in the land of the living and brought the usual host of annoyances: nausea, thirst and the shakes. Like any veteran drinker, I bore these well as I could but I never got used to the unnamed fear and wanted to hide from it.

There are those that have complete blackouts and remember nothing and only learn of their escapades from a third party. I am not so lucky. For the most part, I only lose snatches of the evening. Most of it comes back as if I’m in a dream and usually the dream is a nightmare.
I allowed myself to descend past the throbbing pain. The last clear memory I had was leaving the firehouse yesterday. It had to be about six. Naomi wasn’t going to be home for dinner. She was going to her parents to tell them about the new baby. So I decided to stop at McKenna’s to take a sandwich home. I had promised Naomi I wouldn’t get drunk. And I had no intention of having even one drink. But all day long, I had been thinking about the roast beef sandwiches at McKenna’s. McKenna’s roast beef sandwiches are famous throughout the neighborhood. I just wanted a sandwich and then I wouldn’t have to cook for myself. It started to come back:


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