His mind jolted back to the present as Gin spilled over the glass and onto the coffee table.
Pausing before finishing it in one long gulp.
Drinking isn't for the unhappy, an unwelcome company to misery, but company it is, in a lonely universe.
The word company brings it back along with the searing alcohol burn.
Watching something grow, Grief is painfully real, regardless of its origin.
Playing, feeding and enjoying that company.
There's an everlasting bond that can't be broken by death.
He made the next drink a toast to all that we've lost in life, and the small friends we've loved.