Ne ten alkohol, před kterým utíkal.
Někdy víš, že máš plavat. A stejně se necháš unášet. Not the booze he was running from. It was fear. The old kind, carried up from childhood, set in so early he stopped feeling it as fear and started taking it for himself. They taught him to lower his head before he could walk. Taught him that standing up meant getting hit. So he didn't stand. Not as a kid, not later, when he finally could.
