Chapter 32 Sasha

• Vodka does wonders to calm the soul. Unfortunately, halfway through my glass of it, my soul is as erratic as ever. Swirling the clear liquid creates flickers of light on the hard planes of the crystal. All at once I tighten my wrist, freezing my arm, but the vodka continues to dance.
• It moves the way the performers did tonight. Swaying, rocking, undulating across the stage. But I barely recall the show. My mind is somewhere else.
• When I take a drink of the alcohol, all I taste is her.