Shattered

"The glass is scattered across the floor like broken dreams and the pieces of wishes long forgotten. The water pools on the floor, almost daring me to slip on it. The glass is threatening to slice open my skin if I try to clean up the mess. That’s not what’s so tragic about the whole thing though. The tragedy is the wilting flowers dying on the floor. The tragedy is knowing that the flowers, the best part of the arrangement, will die. And all it takes is the slip of a finger.
I’ve decided life is just like that vase of flowers. It can be beautiful, full of life and color. But, when that finger slips, it all comes crashing down. The pieces of the vase seem too broken to possibly be able to put it back together. And then there’s the tragedy of it all. The flowers are left on the floor, surrounded by the glittering pieces of glass. But soon they will wither and die. That’s what makes it so tragic. When the vase is smashed, there’s nothing left. Everything that was once in the vase dies."

This is opening paragraph from a new story about an alcoholic overcoming his addiction after his world is shattered by the death of his girlfriend. A death he caused while driving under the influence.