#31

A group of four sitting in a worn wooden booth. Neon light outside reflecting off the wet concrete and echoing the brothered light within. Hands hugging sweating glass filled with liquids brown. Faces illuminated in unnatural hues of orange and pink and red and yellow. The four brought here, brought together, four people who otherwise would not be together but for the tongue they share. And it is these tongues that wag and wave in various stages of life and wisdom and experience. What was shy becomes confident. What was bold becomes hesitant. What was eager remains so. Four strangers no more.