...”Where there is more chance of victory, than in a argument with you.”

He stood there staring, reflections of the day laying siege to his mind. “How can I silence you.”
He had failed before; everyone has. He learned, yes, but slower it seemed than others; the accumulation was eating at him. His failures did make him a better man, beating humility into him. Successes, which he did have, grew quiet. Failure grew louder.
“I’ll beat you”, he stared. His conscious pounded in reply. Embattled, he went for the bourbon and dropped a few ice cubes in a glass. He poured 1/4 full and returned to the mirror. Staring, he sipped. It tingled in his mouth, melting its way to his cold belly. “I’ll beat you”. Staring, he sipped again; the warmth began to spread and loosen his rigid limbs.
Staring, he put the glass down, the ring of ice and glass distracted him. He noticed the liquor’s rich color and observed it as it gave in to the ice. He chuckled at the irony.

“Chinese Handcuffs” – The New Year