3 ice cubes, some coke and a small shot of whisky. The smell and the taste. Memories. It feels like coming home. I feel warm. Relaxed. Maybe it’s slowly killing me. But if it is I don’t mind it much. At least not right now. Tomorrow morning is something else. I’ll be hurting when I wake up on the floor. But I’ll be over it by noon.
City’s still alive beneath my window. I see people. I wonder if they know that I’m watching them. And if people are ever watching me like this when I’m out wandering the streets at night. I hope they are.
The ice cubes have all melted. I can’t help but wonder why such a cold drink can make you feel so warm inside.
My glass is empty.
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