The sun had started to push past the mountains in the Far East.
A couple of birds had started to chirp threw the forest of trees to the north.

I had opened a cold draft. It was a sticky hot day.
As the liquid slithered down my throat, I had felt a chill run threw my veins.

A squirrel had ran down a tree catching a meal in his mouth, I had aimed one of my empties to the side of the critter, I had thrown the bottle on its right side scaring it just a enough for him to drop his meal and scatter off in the bushes. He had sneaked back for the meal and then vanished before I had finished off my draft.

I had brushed off over a case of draft and didn’t feel an ounce drunk.
Couldn’t figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing that I wasn’t drunk!

From the sound of the bangs that were coming from my trunk.
I had known my wife was up.
All this time she was with another man as I worked at a mill being paid minimal wage.

Another night another day goes by.
And am stuck with an empty bottle of beer!