The Middle Way – a short story

Before now, I have often joked about drunk me. I would come into the office to find a package on my desk. Drunk me ordered a book I wanted but couldn’t afford. I would claim to find this lack of self-control irritating, but of course I was pleased. It often seemed that no one knew me like drunk me. The gifts were thoughtful, modest enough, like a new lover waking up early to buy fresh bread.

It was a sort of running joke in the office, albeit one that I initiated. My colleague across the low...