A Change of Pace

He staggers, where once he counted steps he now counts unsteady footfalls. Life has become a minor earthquake an aftershock still trembling at the core of a wincing mind. Many years ago, auntie had a stroke, she careened to a halt, yet carried on, speaking from deep within a drainpipe language. He was doing well, it was just the shakes, a hesitancy in his gait. He stopped drinking, stopped falling down self-made trapdoors, grasped for firmer handholds. However, he knew that he was a paper straw and it sucked.