The Ballad of Moonlight and Bourbon, part 2

He felt something choking in his throat. A second later he found himself doubled over the toilet, vomit erupting from his mouth.

“Never again,” he gasped. Bourbon was a bad idea, especially en mass. Especially to what the kids call a ‘lightweight’ – someone who is inexperienced with alcohol.

Maybe that’s all his dream was. A series of events played out in his head, brought on by bourbon.

Tyler stood up and stumbled back to his sink. He bent over and threw water on his face. He shook his hands off and reached for a towel. He dried his face and replaced the towel, reaching for the glass on the side of the sink.
“Are you okay?” a raspy voice asked from behind him.

He stood up, expecting to see Michelle in the mirror.  Standing behind him was a pale woman with shiny black hair and deep, blue eyes. They were more brilliant than he remembered. They seemed as unreal as the dream she came out of.  His heart fluttered.

The Ballad of Moonlight and Bourbon, part 1

She walked slowly down the large hallway, beams of moonlight shining through the massive windows illuminating her torn, white dress which contrasted her shiny, black hair.

Tyler thought it was something he’d see in a movie as he slowly closed the door behind him, the old, rusted hinges letting out an audible moan. He had no idea who the girl was, but she had an air of familiarity about her. She continued to walk towards him, his heart racing more with each step.

She was close enough to touch. He felt her light breath on his neck as her arms wrapped around him. He hesitated a moment, then slid his arms lightly around her, pulling her close.

She pulled away from him. He looked down into her deep eyes, dulled by the pale glow of the moonlight. He saw a smile trace its way across her lips as a tear rolled down her face. He brushed it away, then found their lips pressing against each others.

His eyes made their way to the door at the end of the hallway. The door slowly creaked open, and Michelle, his wife, stepped through. He could see a look of anger, disgust, and depression on her pale, moonlight face.

Tyler woke with a start, his heart racing. He leaned up and rubbed his face. Michelle was asleep next to him. She was perfect. She was everything he wanted. Or so he thought.

He stood and walked into the bathroom. He switched on the lights and leaned against the counter. He sighed and looked into the mirror. He ran a hand through his dark hair. His eyes were showing a hint of depression, something he’d never seen in himself before.

An emotional pain filled him as he thought about the girl in his dream. Who was she? Why did she seem so familiar? He didn’t know anything about her, yet he felt determined to find her. And he didn’t know why.

Donut

Smalls