God D****t, Karen

Let's have a Vignette!

He threw back several shots to drown his thoughts in the overwhelming stench of alcohol. The image of his wife, Karen, etched itself in his mind as her soft, reprimanding voice echoed in his skull. She would tell him to be more thankful for what he has and not look at others with greed, especially since the only speed in life he was capable of handling was that of a sloth. Each shot he took reminded him of the deadly sins he had represented throughout his pitiful marriage. He took the last drink and swallowed the memories of happier times.

Heels clicked across the marbled floor of the bar and he turned to find Karen taking a seat next to him with legal documents in her hands. He looked at her and saw the disappointment reflected back at him through her eyes. George gestured to the bar tender. “I’ll take another round,” he said, and proceeded to drown.