v12-final1

would have to be the last for the night. The dram seemed to magnify the
clear gold liquid, deceivingly enhancing a thought of smoothness to the
drink. To honor this stranger, who had bought the round, I held up my
glass to offer a toast.
“To new acquaintances.” I said.
With a clink of the glasses the man responded “To those who
passed on but drink with us now.”
I pulled my glass back, looking at this odd man next to me. He
took a strong drop from his glass and set it down. “My name is Michael.”
He said without looking at me.
I sipped at my drink, my nose immediately catching the smokey
peat, reminding me that peace of mind was just an illusion. I took one
last look at the conceived smoothness, a lie, and set the glass down. I
muddled my disinterested response “My name is John.”
I extended my hand with my head remaining bowed. He returned
the shake with a cold but firm and reassuring grip. My disinterest
turned to curiosity, “What business are you in?”
“I am in the death business.” He said, taking the glass to his lips.
We all have need for medication in the name of our ills.
“Well then we make a good match, I am in the killing business.”
I wasn’t sure then, nor am I now completely sure why I said that. Michael
made no effort to show shock or concern he merely looked forward just
as I was doing. I decided to clarify. “I am in the Army, and I don’t actually
kill. I merely help those who do the killing get to where they need to go
and find who they need to find.”
Michael remained stoic. “We all have a job to do, some of us have
pleasant jobs.” Michael paused, seemingly contemplating what it was he
was saying. “But those with pleasant jobs have no satisfaction. Do you
have satisfaction?”
“I am here. I think that sums it up pretty well.” I said with
involuntary irritation and a disgruntled laugh.
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