The baby was crying, screaming it’s little guts out. The father sat dizzy from the thirteenth peg he had just gulped down. He looked out to his wife, nowhere to be seen in the kitchen. He shouted out, adding to the baby’s cries.
More pegs were made, three bottles had fallen to this man’s addiction. His wife seemed to have forgotten of his existence. But his hazed mind was far away from these troubles. His intoxication had reached a new level. After the twentieth peg, his insides gave up. The floor was in ruins.
After a terrible pain in his stomach, he rushed to the bathroom for unknown reasons. Maybe his mind was trained for these situations. He rushed and spilled his stomach out into the ceramic pot, not noticing his wife that hung from the kitchen fan.
After the third gag, he lay unconscious on the floor. The last thing he remembered was the horrifying silence.
The baby had ceased its crying.