“Shuggie fixated on the comb gliding through the hair. He watched how each strand separated like burn water. “I think she is going to drink herself to death.” “Would you be sad?” asked the girl. He stopped combing her hair. “I would be gutted. Wouldn’t you?” She shrugged. “I dunno. I think it’s what all alkies want anyways.” She shivered. “To die, I mean. Some are just taking the slow road to it.”
