Michael went to the bar often. He had one beer on Monday and two on thursday and a whole lot of mixed drinks in between. He’d even had a glass of wine if he was in the mood for it. His work tossed him here and there and to all sides of the city; he worked weekdays, nights and weekends, it didn’t matter, but he liked it that way, it made him feel on the outside, not normal. Most people would say he was different enough but he never hurt nobody and he did his job so nobody really cared. He was an apprentice carpenter, been one most of his life. He never bothered to graduate, at least his boss never bothered to get him out of the apprenticeship, he was too stupid to work on his own they said behind his back, not that Michael cared, he was comfortable where he was.

The alcohol smoothed all the jagged edges of his brain, he said, It was like walking on air and everything made sense. Life’s not bad. The alcohol helped him not think about the bad stuff, things that he got beaten up for thinking when he was a child. He didn’t know why they got so mad about it. His mother wasn’t alive anymore so nobody stopped him from thinking things like that anymore but she beat him good and it would take another severe beating to turn him back the way he was! At least he kept his spirit, the kind that made it easy to look at people and people to look back at him without shying away. People enjoyed talking to him, at least for a little while, until they realised just how strange he was. He even got free drinks at the bar sometimes, and in general, life didn’t try to trip him up, not like his mother did. He enjoyed that she was dead, greatly.

Yes, life was good and interesting and different, Michael was good at finding stuff like that, things that most people gloss over or don’t even notice. It made everyday interesting and people seemed to genuinely enjoy his outlook on life and even though he was an alcoholic, he wouldn’t trade his jagged brain for the world.