Callahan
My steps are heavy as I make my way below ground. The flashlight illuminates the path ahead of me, but I don't need it. I know the underground of this house. It's not only the cells that are down here.
I bring the bottle of whiskey to my mouth and swallow two mouthfuls as thoughts swim in the chaotic sea of my mind.
The voices from that dream. Were they Lenore and Uncle David? I recognize the scent of the aftershave. It's my uncle's. Something he has custom was the other voice, Lenore's? What had she said? Why can't I f*****g remember what she said?
I drink more, the liquid sloshing in the bottle.
It's cold down here. And damp. If I close my eyes and stand very still, I swear I can feel the sea pressing against the rock. No. That's not true. Not yet. That only happens in the
