The Lesser Road of Evil

1 I watched Celia walk away, right out of the coffee shop. I never cried, but I wanted to that moment. My fingers absently searched for a cigar as I watched the person I loved even more than myself leave my life.
2 Nothing cuts me more than memories, so I drink up. There's nothing at the bottom of my glass when I'm done. Not a drop the size of a sperm there. Most people shake their heads when they compare me to my former self. Lionizing every fart and booger I flicked at them when I was at the apex of my career. But now I become a safety net of reality. The blurred faces watch me and think to themselves, "Thank God it's not me. Even if I had all the money he had it wouldn't be worth it."

Yeah, call me a morality booster. Money is the root of evil, at least it was the root of me at one time. Now I'm sucking on cheap vodka in a bar that's a breath away from being condemned. If there's no God or Buddha or something in this world, I know there's karma. I can smell it everyday in the streets. I can taste it after I puke on my second-hand shoes. I can feel it like it was her memory. Every day I feel her hand on my head and then I open my eyes and it's karma. She's not there. She won't be. Celia was killed by karma, my karma. At least the person she was with me. Now I heard she's married and expecting a kid.

I hope the kid is ugly.

I take another shot of my watery vodka.
3 "Alan!" "Alan!" I hear my name shouted from the corner bakery. Geoff Blue. I didn't recognize him at first, he grew up. I sat next to him in tenth grade history or should I say cheated off of him in tenth grade history. It's been twenty years, I see him moving in my direction. I am buzzed and don't dare stumble forward to admit that I am still a cheater. He approaches me, with a whiskey grin, hands me a business card.