[ CW ] Show me an alcoholic , without using the word alcohol ( or related words ) .

He clambered down the narrow hallway, his toe just nearly missing the rusty radiator he often stubbed it on. Like a ship in a storm, he swayed back and forth with each progressive step until he finally stumbled into the kitchen. He paused and muttered a few unintelligible words to himself groaning as he reached towards the cupboard. His hand reached the top shelf and fumbled aimlessly in search of a glass. While his fingers crawled back and forth desperately, he suddenly caught a glimpse of what looked to be a glass resting peacefully in the back of the cupboard. Determined to grasp it, he prepared his legs, and made a pitiful leap, swatting his hand toward the seemingly unreachable glass. With each successive hop, he felt closer and closer to clenching it. On his fifth attempt, the tip of his fingers swiped the glass, and it danced playfully around the top shelf. The glass tipped slightly sideways balancing dangerously as it spun in circles around and around. Frantically, the man made one last hop, but his judgement was poor and he grossly miscalculated. His hand bashed the bottom of the top shelf sending the glass tumbling off the edge and over his head. He could n't bear to look; he closed his eyes and heard the resounding crash of shattered glass against the cold tile floor. Slumping to the ground he whimpered quietly. His fingers reached forward, shaking, as he pinched a broken shard of his only known escape, and a tear trickled slowly down his face.
