Whisky

The Whisky Glass Window

“Well of course, I’ve left the odd lady via a bedroom window myself, you know.” The old man winked over the top of his whisky glass, as he first leaned forward in the high-backed leather chair, and then back again. We waved his boney fingers in the air.

“Hmmm, well alright, it was only the once, but then like the old saying goes – you only ever need one tick in the box”. Of course, I had no idea what he meant – it wasn’t a saying I’d ever heard, but then technically speaking, his memory did go back further than mine. His eyes twinkled in the half-light as he gently laughed at me, clearly reminiscing about an event-filled youth. As it should be. I understood the bedroom window thing well enough, though. That was something we could bond over.

“One more for the road, Arthur?” I asked.

“Don’t mind if I do, old boy,” he smiled, “don’t mind if I do”.