The clear, bubbling foam dashed against the rocks. Sonia had spent the last two hours in silence, taking a swig or two every half a minute, wondering, contemplating. Her’s wasn’t the best life, but she had always tried to make the best of what she got. Although—
She took another long draught. Looking down at the rocks, she mused how the lapping liquid chipped their coldness and hardness, dissolving them into nothing. Like herself, she thought downed the liquor ignoring her stinging throat.
The rocks remained. Beckoning the bartender, she slid her glass over to him. “More Scotch, no rocks.”