Next month I turn thirty-one years old. Last year when I entered my third decade of life, everything felt the same as it had before except for the intensifying joint pain and reliance on probiotics. When midnight rolled over into a new day and my thirties, I was already asleep (by choice) in a cabin in Naubinway, MI. Waking up in . . .
The reddish-brown dot soaked deep into his white Oxford shirt. He knew right then it would never come out. No amount of washing, soaking, or dry cleaning would free the blemish. The shirt would be forever marked with Angostura Bitters as a stamp of his commitment to adding them to an Old Fashioned.
From here on out the . . .
Being that is was May he located the silver cup he used every summer. He patiently rubbed the precious metal to reveal the mirror beneath and then put the cloth and polish away for next year. As the days of summer stretched on the cup would patina with each filling.
Strong green mint grows from the same earth that fosters . . .
With an awful screeching noise, he taped up the last box and looked around the now barren apartment. Over the previous day, it transformed from homey, comfortable, and customized back to the sterile "mdrn 1b/1b w/ vus grt location" he moved into a few years ago. It did have a great view. He would miss that.
The . . .
"Hey! Welcome! We're all having Pisco Sours. I'll make you one!" As the offer floated from her vocal cords, through the air, and bounced into his ears his mouth slowly opened and he pushed out a barely audible "okay." But it wasn't okay. He hated Pisco Sours.
He didn't only hate Pisco . . .
He shut the door, and for the first time of the day experienced complete silence. The morning started with a car alarm that woke him minutes before his trusty clock radio clicked on: "It's a cold one today Chicago. Make sure you bundle up out there. In other news..."
Looking in the mirror, he pulled an . . .
It was foolish of him to think that the rest of the month would be like this. It was a rare and beautiful sunny April day in Chicago. The light from the slow setting sun made him squint while walking home to his apartment.
His sunglasses were still tucked in a bag from a quick trip he took last month down South to research . . .