Mr. Burton by Kaston Griffin

Henry Burton chucked the whiskey bottle out the farmhouse door as he came in, aiming loosely for the glass bin, and plodded into the kitchen for another.  Briskly, he patted the cigarette smoke from his jacket, snatched a bottle off the cheap end of the rack, and staggered upstairs to check on the baby, who slept with one eye open.

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