Drunk on Moonlight

Silver light filtered through a bottle of clear liquor, covering the table and wall with refracted light. It swirled on the ceiling when a dark-haired man picked it up and took a swig. He looked up through a thin window where the light oozed through, and wrote something else down on his paper. Taking another swig of vodka, he watched as the light illuminated part of the dark spiral stairs, writing something else down.

His writing was gentle, so unlike his usual personality, more as if he were writing poetry for a lover.

Bringing the bottled moonlight with, the turned around and stared the moonlight straight in the face. He squinted. Normally no one was supposed to do that, but he was defiant by nature and perfect by science. Nothing, especially moonlight, should be able to beat him; make him less able to excel at life.