Welcome to Friday. As I didn’t get much of a weekend last weekend, I am very much looking forward to the end of this week. It has been a good week, but without that break of a weekend it just felt a bit longer than it should. So, shall we kick Friday off and be one step closer to the end of the week? I think we should. So Timers set to fifteen minutes please and let’s get going.
This week seems to have created prompts I need to think about. Not entirely sure why. I need to figure out the difficult relationship. I also need to figure out if that is what this story is about or if that is just a thread through the story.
Friday, May 19th: I’ll have a whisky on the rocks.
“I’ll have a whisky on the rocks,” he said. The bartender nodded and pulled out a glass.
“Any particular brand?” he asked. Harry tried not to look surprised. He let his eyes slide over the bottles. He saw one with a name he recognized and he said it. The bartender nodded and he poured a measure of it into the glass and added ice, placing the glass on a napkin in front of him.
Harry smiled and paid for the drink. He looked around, wondering if he should stay at the bar or go to one of the tables. Most of the tables had groups at them but the bar had solo drinkers who looked like they already imbibed several drinks and planned to continue doing so until the bar shut down for the night and they were sent stumbling home.
He spotted a small two seater table in the corner and decided that would be a good destination. He took his drink to the table and sat down. He sat with his back to the wall, more so that he could watch the other bar patrons than because he had any paranoid fears about someone out to get him.
Harry knew very well he was not the sort of person anyone was out to get. The bar was filled with activity. His suit from work blended with the attire of the other patrons even if he didn’t fit into either of the groups represented. At the moment there were inveterate drinkers who showed up at the end of the work day each day and groups who came down from the office on a semi regular basis for a group happy hour.
He was alone, but he only planned on having this one drink. He hadn’t really thought much past that. This morning as he dressed for work, he received a call that his Great Uncle Danny died. His relationship with Danny had always been somewhat complicated, but he felt that he ought to mark his passing in some way. There would be no funeral and no gathering. He wasn’t expected anywhere and honestly didn’t know if he would go if he was expected. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Danny’s passing if he were honest.
‘But Uncle Danny did like a good whisky on the rocks.’ It was his one allowed personal vice. Once a week every week, he would allow himself one whisky on the rocks. As he aged, it went from a once a week indulgence to a once a month thing. He remembered hearing something about the medications and the whisky not going well together, but apparently once a month didn’t cause too much trouble.
No matter how much Danny enjoyed his whisky, it was only that one glass when he imbibed. As his work day ended, Harry decided that would be a fitting marker for Danny’s passing. This bar looked nice from the outside and was pleasant enough once he was inside. He ordered the drink and now here he was. He would only have one of course. Danny would not have wanted him to do more than that.
Settled in his chair, the whole bar displayed before him, Harry lifted the glass to his lips. There was a smoky undertone with a slightly sweet note and he drew in a deep breath before taking a sip. The ice made the liquid cold but the alcohol warmed him to his toes. It was a strange sensation of icy warmth, which he found he enjoyed.
He sipped slowly as the bar around him began to fill up with people.
Ten til Midnight 