Remembrance

He swirls the cloudy glass around, ice clanking against cheap material, viscous liquid inside clinging to the sides momentarily before settling. Then, he tips the glass back and the burn mingles with the cold ice against his lips. Cold..

..cold snow down the back of his thick coat, immediately raised his hackles and he spun around to look at her. Red-faced and laughing, she was on the precipice of womanhood; a face that when viewed from a certain angle showed the adult she would become. Her teeth were the whitest things he had seen, brilliant even compared to the snow that was all around them. He had her hand, and pulled her gently, and her laughs and smiles faded and for an instant they were together, and adults both, serious. And he would always remember how her lips parted slightly even as his other hand came around, full of snow, and he was powerless to stop it. She had laughed, but they never got that close again.

He puts the glass on the worn bar with a dull thud and reaches clumsily into his pocket, withdrawing a crumpled bill and dropping it at the bartender, who deftly takes his glass away while pocketing the cash. Turning on the barstool, he looks out into the smoky bar at the groups and couples chatting amiably among themselves. Off in the corner in a booth were four young men, laughing and grabbing at their mugs.

Don took a long drink of the dark-colored beer he favored while the others grinned at him. "Tech specialist," he went on, "I'm gonna be working with all the advanced stuff, they said." He grinned proudly- proudly, as if the Army was his first choice and not his last chance.

"Probably have you cleaning the general's latrine," quipped Luke, smiling. It was almost imperceptible, the twinge in Don's eyes. But his grin remained infallible.

"What's your degree in? Philosophy? So you're gonna work at the Philosophy Company, eh?" he responded. They were friends through him, and bore each other's company for his sake. But they complained to him when the other wasn't around: it was almost a relief they would be heading to different places.

Don looked at him, "And you've got it made, man. Working at your dad's shop- one day you'll own the place!" He had smiled and nodded at that, but God knows he wouldn't be able to take forty years selling office supplies. That was his dad's dream, not his. But even at this late hour, he couldn't confess to his friends his true plans. And so they both left within a week, and he had disappeared, too.

"Hey buddy, here's your drink," the bartender says in a loud tone, waking him from his daydream. "Ya all right?"

He smiles ruefully, and shakes his head, "Just remembering some old times". The bartender nods, "Some regrets, eh?"

He looks down at his drink, the bitter liquid on cold ice. "Oh, no. I regret no choices- but the memories take me back to them, and lets me relive them. How sweet the remembrance."

He swirls the liquid in the glass, and it clings to the sides before settling again.