An Exercise

It’s hot and sticky. There’s a storm, all around and the pulse of thunder pushes through the world in regular intervals. The rain adds more heaviness to the air, making for a curtain of thick, viscous humidity as I walk through the apartment.

I have a bottle of wine that’s old and the wine has lost its sweetness. A bitter sour taste has begun to creep around the edges and there’s an acidic bite that wasn’t there a few days ago. But it’s cold and it burns and it does the job that I need it to d...