A short story. Very short. Since its 150 words, it’s pretty poetic. Have fun!
I run, attempting to outpace death. Death follows, in the form of broken bottles, broken bottles of alcohol.
I stop, winded, and the temptation catches me. Once again I am caught, I lose, and am brought back to the starting line.
I stab, attempting to wound it. My weapon clinks against the bottle and nothing happens. Then it begins attacking.
I hold it off forever but eventually I slip and I look at death. I succumb and the bottles empty once again.
I ask for help, attempting to stop it with numbers. But it arrives and I suddenly give up on my allies. I realize that I never wanted them the most anyway. I wake up, and despair.
I try one last time, fighting with love. “For my daughter!” And it stays there. But, suddenly, it is no longer a temptation, an enemy. It shrinks, and I cross the finish.