Light bounced off the glass onto the ceiling, a thousand reflections multiplied geometrically, I looked around.
My own world of light.
They danced and giggled as I did.
A small measure of a 26 year old single malt.
I made it dance on rocks of ice. I smiled down at it.
An indulgence that perhaps only a mother understands.
The pleasure of forgetting so many calls of others and being just you.
Now and again.
Just being your drunk philosophical self.
And hearing your heart beat, albeit off rhythm.
To its own beat. Now and then it skips a few, so out of tune and practice.
Need to do it more often.
This little meeting between me and myself.
Over a glass of some good scotch.
That reflects me back, a thousand times, in a geometrical way.
Mature and Deep. And ooh, so self indulgent.
And foolish, to think that the world and you can handle more than one of us.