Time for another drink.
I stalked across the room towards the mahogany cabinet, opened the top shelf and reached for the bottle of Macallan 18 Years I stowed there. I frowned at the amount of golden liquid left in the bottle. Parang kabibili ko lang nito noong Linggo. Biyernes pa lang ngayon pero isang baso na lang yata ang natitira? Is someone stealing my drink?
I shrugged, uncaring. Edgar can always buy me another bottle. No use worrying about it.
I fished out a glass from the same cabinet and put two ice cubes in it. Icing whisky is sacrilegious to whisky traditionalist but I don’t give a flying f**k. Same way that I don’t give a f**k if it is too early to drink.
With great relish, I poured what’s left of the Macallan into the glass, raised it in a toast to the setting sun, and took
