Blogubarra

The lounge over there is red, a bright red color, which at least is still red when it’s dark night outside the window, all now wet with rain.  That same lounge was the lounge that I would sit with her, when Anne, my great aunt ‘grandma’ came over.  Not that often, usually when my parents were out. Out on nights like this one, but tonight the lounge was empty of her.  “You miss her ?”, I asked it, walking over to it. I flopped down in the leather, cool then warm, reached over an picked up my drink.  The glass was her usual, as was the drink in it.  Staring at the bubbles of vodka coke in the glass, and the beads of rain on the window outside of the room.

How could anyone drink vodka with coke in it – it should kill a normal person, drinking this all the time…