“Uff,” Pat said after finishing his long swig. “Whoever
named this the Suffering Bastard knew what he was talking about. I’m feeling
better already.”
Some of the pain lines on his face faded. But the dark circles
around his eyes remained, and his skin was still pale.
“Ready to do it again?” Sarah asked, eyes twinkling.
“Not sure I can,” John said, holding his Bloody Mary
against his forehead, which was sweating.
Pat stared down at his mug. It was carved in the shape of
the strange idols that doted the islands. Its big eyes sat atop a lurid grin.
No comments:
Post a Comment