Leaning on a cracked wall in the middle of the night, a young man in his late teens gagged and then threw up. The sky was clear, the moon was full, and the stars burned brightly above the world.
The world around the young man was spinning, and he could barely keep a hold on reality. He should've stopped drinking hours ago, but what could he have done?
"Are you okay, uncle?" A sharp and gentle voice called, and when the young man looked into the dark shadows of the alleyways, he saw a little ginger girl wearing rags looking at him. She looked barely five, so he frowned.
"The fu…what are you doing here?" He pushed against the wall and tried to stand straight, but he could barely see. His arms flailed in front of him as if they had a mind of their own, and a part of his mind was already telling him that he must be hallucinating from all that he drank.
