Smoke and Amber

Ah…The sun is setting on the distant hills.

Such a serene sight. Nostalgic. Been to them hills once alone wandered it in the bright summer sun. Walked the distances through the park exploring the neighbourhood.

No idea why I was there but I sure enjoyed it. Did wear my shoes down a bit sadly.

On the right they’re still discussing the finite details of the job. Post analysis. Mostly a formality.

Sunny day. My phones weather feed confirms it. After all that rain, the bright warm setting sun is very much welcome.

Heh everyone is still drying off their stuff on the radiators. That’s how wet today was. I was even soaked through my kevlars.

Ahhhh nevertheless that hot sun is some good sunshine. Vitamin E? or D? Not fussed at all. It’s just warm.

The window in the far corner of the room even lets the warm breeze in. A nice warm breeze the kind you get on the beach and it’s not too cold yet not too warm. Yet we’re not on the beach. The lack of a salty tang is quite the giveaway.

This table is of great height you could say as well. Lets me hang my feet off less than a foot off the ground but still high enough for me to swing my legs around like a piece of string caught in a breeze. Awesome kick feel for my wet jeans.

And for company…She’s here.

Dang I wish I could man up and talk to her.

Her back is to the wall feeling the warmth of the sunset and her mine is in the hills wandering far from this place.

I chew on a few lines I could toss her. But I swallow them anyway.

The moment is good enough on it’s own without me injecting any chaos.

But what would seal the deal I guess.

Is a smoke in my left. And some amber whisky in my right. And just being able to take a nap there and then.

Sunset as the backdrop. Her as the foreground. And a table I could take a stiff nap on. Feels good man.

But no amber. No smoke. And it’s time for me to go.

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The wispy trail comes up from the cigarette in my hand. Mild7. Seriously? How’s this rolled up piece of hay even remotely mild? It tastes like the sole of my old travelling shoe. Yea the one that’s seen streets that smell worse than urinals made for the visually challenged. Last time I’m letting her buy the smokes. She’s got no taste. Even smoking rolled up pieces of banana crate would taste better. At least that would be fruity. No joke. The rising tendrils of smoke coil in the air. Looks poetic. Romantic even. Probably in some strange religion or cult they’re trying interpret what signs the smoke is forming. But I’m not here to discuss the significance of it.

That’s only cause I’m not sucking on that death stick. Smells bad. Tastes worse. Gimme a wriggley’s.

But heck. This amber in my left. It’s mighty fine. Cause it was me bringing it. No qualms there. Smooth. Oaky. Deep. Rich.
I shelled out big time for this. It’s not everyday that I get to see her. Or every year even. Suits the occasion. Celebration cause she’s here. And the alcohol in it is to help me get on with the fact that I have to see her anyway. Not gonna act all big and tell you I know much about whisky. I’m not here to swish my glass and sniff the notes and tell you where was it bottled or if it’s do re mi fa so la ti do. I’m here to tell you about the feel of the drink itself.

Mighty fine. Such a shame that the young miss on the other side of the table. Is blowing that donkey piss smoke at me. Maybe I should blow back.

The cool air is refreshing. Slightly humid though. But then again the humidity mingling with the cool air ain’t so bad compared to the recent heat wave. Up till a few hours ago before the sun set I was sure that if i chucked an egg at the sidewalk. It’d bloody cook and roll about becoming coal on the sidewalk. That hot. Yeah.

I exaggerate.

Shoot me so la ti do.

But none of it is too bad. It’s a special occasion anyway she’s here I guess. Been a little hard to yank her out of the pit so all is good anyway.

Once every 2 years eh? I guess it’s good enough reason to bring out the Amber and Smoke.