Tick-tock goes the clock. I recline with tinkling glass. Post-Eleven sips. I fibbed when I said: "A book and a glass of milk." I prefer liquor. The gentle glug-glug... In my soft, hugging armchair I sip sweet nectar. All alone right now. Luxuriant solitude. Silent, holy night. My late Grandpa speaks: "Ice? I'm not American!" I drink Scotch for two. A lady I loved? I toast her feisty spirit: R.I.P., ami. And to those alive? Tonight you're all Absent Friends. As such, I miss you. Midnight approaches. Time to bid this day good-night. I drain my glass dry.