"The Randomness of Life" chapter 67 for a Little Drabble do Ya, Wednesday Challenge on Section VII

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

                   

Prompted by: The Ditch is dear to the Drunken man ~Emily Dickinson

The Ditch is dear to the Drunken man
For is it not his Bed—
His Advocate—his Edifice?
How safe his fallen Head
In her disheveled Sanctity—
Above him is the sky—
Oblivion bending over him
And Honor leagues away.




Napoleon searched for his partner, knowing he was in a bad way.

He finally found him at a bar in Little Russia, drowning his sorrows at  the loss of another innocent.

Illya sensed his presence, and turned, looking up to him from his glass of vodka; there was a half-empty bottle on the bar in front of him.

“Come on buddy, I know it feels awful, but it wasn’t your doing.”

“It always feeeeels like it izzz.”

The Russian's eyes rolled, and he passed out into in partner’s waiting arms.

“No loss of honor here my friend. Not your fault.”

Comments

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

What a pal. It's good to have a friend who will rescue you from yourself.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Words that were never truer spoken. thanks! "D