The whiskey rolled down my throat in a very pleasing way. I savored the taste and thought about how its soothing flavor would spread from my stomach to the tips of my every extremity. I leaned forward on the bar stool and put the highball glass to my head. The outside of the cup was …
The guitar looked lonely lying neglected on the floor. It seemed almost an afterthought in the otherwise well-appointed apartment. I felt almost compelled to ask about it, but the vibe of the room seemed to say it was best ignored. The party was small, as pretentious gatherings tend to be. The tunes were the latest …
The piano played an indistinct song at the far end of the bar. My whiskey was a bit warm for my taste, but it was 101, so it was just the medicine I needed. It had been a day, one of those that just seem to stumble from one fuck up to another. Just when …
The record needle scratched at the end of the record. The popping sound would have signaled to the listener to get up and flip the 45. This listener, me, won’t. The whiskey in my hand, and the whiskey in my bloodstream, all seemed to be ok with the sound of the needle scratching the last …