Monday, June 16, 2014

Drinking Amber

Nothing is as peaceful as an empty bar 
on a Sunday night.

The bartender walked over and asked
what I would like to drink.

I asked her for an Old Fashioned.
When she set the drink down

I noticed she had turned it 
into a miniature art installation. 

The cherry sat perfectly centered
on top of the large square ice cube.

The orange peel rested across the glass 
like a support beam for a roof that would 

never be built. I told her I had never seen 
a drink be so well presented.

She thanked me for noticing.
It's evident when someone takes

pride in their work, no matter 
how small it may be.

I drank it slowly, the ice gradually
melting into the rye.

The glistening cube towered
over the orange slice and cherry

as they moved within the glass.
Despite small measured sips

the drink was gone all too soon.
The bartender came back 

when she saw I was done. I told her 
she had done an excellent job.

She smiled. I asked her her name.
She said Christina. I ordered a beer.

The bar was just as empty as when
I arrived. I was fine with that.

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