He entered the quiet house to find Michael still fully dressed, passed out cold, drooling onto the embroidered sofa pillow, and snoring like a lumberjack. Strange. The docks were abuzz with rumors of Michael’s recent nuptials to a young lady of exceptional beauty. Why then wasn’t he enjoying the fruits of his marriage? “Michael!” He shook him vigorously in an attempt to shake him out of his drunken stupor. Michael, wake up!” Michael opened one blurry eye and saw two faces leaning over him. “Evenin’, boss.” “And a good evening it is, Michael.” His boss grinned, although he was deeply disturbed by the sight of his overseer, who was semiconscious at best. “For some of us at least.” He had not known Michael to imbibe so heavily in years, not since the night his wife had died after a sudden illness. Then it was to be expected, but now? Surely his recent marriage did not bring about such stress.
