A green bottle of alcohal was the sign that told him his dad wasn't going to be his good ol' self tonight. If it was finding it stashed somewhere in his work bench, buried out in the barn, or thrown in to the woods behind the house he recalled all those nights his father set there hammered and like a time boob waiting to go off. They lived on a military base where bombs were kept underground or in bunkers. When in their own house was a bomb of its own, there father, just waiting to be set off by the swigs of a drink. Each one of those bottles that are scattered all over there house are things that are knocking off a Little time, one by one, of his life. These bottles are his killer, his detonation sequence. The store and drink makers such as Jack Daniels or Jim Bean are the suppliers. They are just pushing this bomb to detonation. The causalities of these bottles and bombs are the wife and children. A son who thinks that living and doing everything perfect will make these bottles disappear. A family that when the bottles do show up run in fear of setting off an explosion. And a mother that does everything she knows how to keep things under control. If it weren't for these bottles this would just be a happy and peaceful family with no threat of an explosion. The family says they hear bombs being tested during the night. Thy just hope and pray that one night that it isn't the bomb that is in their house.