Dylan had barely stepped out of the shower when he heard a knock on the bedroom door. He dried off quickly, calling out, “I’ll be there in a sec,” put on the robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, and went to see who it was.
Mars stood there, wearing a robe very similar to Dylan’s. In one hand he held two glasses; in the other, a bottle of Johnny Walker Red. “Mind if I come in?”
“Since you come bearing scotch, not in the least,” Dylan replied, stepping aside. “What’s the occasion?”
“I thought we could celebrate still being alive.”
Dylan smiled. “I’m all for that. Being alive, and celebrating.”
Mars went over to the dresser, put down the glasses, and opened the bottle. After pouring two fingers of scotch into each glass, he handed one to Dylan. “To continued living.”
Tapping h
