Adrian wiped the last of the gravy from the wall and carefully picked what was left of the pot roast on the smashed dinner plate off the floor.
In the faded old recliner Paulie had begun to snore.
When she had finished cleaning up the mess her brother's drunken tantrum had left behind she pulled the orange crochet blanket off the back of the sofa and covered Paulie with it.
He doesn't mean it. She told herself for the millionth time.
Somewhere in there , she thought there had to be the same brother he had been when they were growing up.
The brother who got between her and their drunk old man more times than she could count.
The one who used to shoplift bread and cheese singles when they were kids from the corner store to make sure she never went hungry.
The one who actually used to be the only one who could ever make her smile.
Over the years though she had watched that brother slowly fade away.
After their father died from lung cancer when Paulie was seventeen he had taken that meat packing job that he hated.
The struggle to pay the rent and put food on the table was always weighing on him, even once Adrian was able to get that job at the pet store and help out they still barely got by.
Adrian had watched helplessly for years now as alcoholism slowly ate away at everything her brother had once been turning him bitter and even cruel sometimes.
He doesn't mean it. She told herself as she turned out the light and went to bed.