I always thought Mondays were the worst. You tell yourself get through the day, by Tuesday you'll be back on the wagon . . . But sometimes, by the time Tuesday comes, if you're still just the same, still drinking, self-loathing . . . you know the rest of the week is a write-off.

Edward still lives in his marital home, albeit alone, estranged from his wife and child. When a chance encounter with an old school friend results in an invitation to a house warming, it sets him on a self-revelatory journey, with interesting results.

Written by Alfred Fagon...