I Have An Alcholic Dad

The smell of sweet wine bubbling in the risotto rice rushes through the air. I come downstairs to a million empty glasses with the bottoms stained red with the dried liquor.

Nightly chores are done. Wash up, clean up and throw out. Smashing of bottles and the crinkling of aluminium beer cans are strongly evident as the rubbish bags are tossed out, all while the parents are passed out.

No hugs from them. The poison has already made them mad.