whisky bottle empty
Whisky glass, once full now almost empty, sits there in front of me on the kitchen table. There is no music. Only my thoughts. Thoughts of nothing in particular. No memories. Only a sense of being. Warmth. The level in the bottle has gone down. Someone else must be drinking it. No thoughts. A spinning mind full of imagery. Colours swoop in and zoom out. Hypnotic sounds. Wide awake eyes see everything. Amber clarity. Empty bottle…
You can replace the word whisky with milk if you like.