Five to nine

Have a drink.

September 11, 2004

Some drinks you just don't forget.

They start long before you crack open the bottle, and they don't finish until long after you realize the glass at the bottom is not going to tint anything rose. It was a Tuesday morning when my habit was a beer on Wednesdays. It was bright, and i was rowing. And then in class. And then the class was interrupted. All of them were, the rest of the afternoon. I woke up Dan, and explained to him why everyone uptown was going to have a lot of free time that afternoon, and why we wished we didn't. I told Julia I needed a hug and some headache medicine. She gave me both. Night eventually came, and no one had any more plans for the day except to sit around and hurt. We sat around with my bottle of gin and his bottle of whiskey and a few of them for good company. It was Bombay sapphire with ice in a shapely tumbler, which had been a gift for my 19th birthday. Despite the fragrant, well-spiced nature of the drink, it was bitter all the way down.
Like all days, like all drinks, this one eventually ended, but it never went away.


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