good morning

(what's your favorite Stephen King novel?) no pun on Scream.

He shook. He swallowed his pride for a moment before he picked up the phone. His hands trembled, his medication. Fuck, he thought, he must have forgotten to take it before he went to bed. That's exactly what it must have been. It just had to be. How many squares have I circled without genuine determination? His girls lied to him. They didn't stay up all night talking and laughing. They were playing video games instead of reading. Brad walked down to the fridge and decided to open a beer! Why not? A dose is a dose. Then why not stop there. The girls weren't home and Linda just fell into a light sleep. He could wake her up with a throb nestled on her thigh. He could predict that is what could happen but Linda was on and off with that sort of thing. When she was in the mood, she was REALLY in the mood. He contemplated on a third beer. Maybe a puff of the joint, Chad Collins, next door, rolled for him. Oh, Bradley, you shouldn't, his conscience told him. His last time drunk was when he gambled in Lake Tahoe, three-betting on young lovers and old degenerates. Mmm wings with beer would be fantastic at this point. He fumbled through the fridge but there was no hope. Fuck, I got to wake up at three am, in 20 minutes, to get the gear into the car and off to work. Hell, one more beer couldn't hurt. I'll be the only one opening the morning shift and no one will rush me much. The beer is cold and refreshing. I'm drunk. Linda is fast asleep. I shouldn't reckon with her. I get into my car, it's a cool spring morning. The car starts its guttural whine. It usually takes a minute or two to warm up. Any minute now, any second.