The Blood of Christ in a bottle of J&8 # 10-23

The Blood of Christ in a bottle of J&8 # 10-23

Roberto moved back to the table, and so had I. I fumbled with my camera, worried about the bright skylight, the passing rain clouds that drove me nuts taking me out of the immediate subject. My aperture ring was getting a real time workout, f 2, f 5.6. I was watching the light in three sections of the kitchen as Roberto get ready to pour. I had figured out a manageable f stop. "Scotch, Roberto asked me. There was no way I was going to sit up and go face to face with this guy that had peculiar tattoos on his hard and neck. No thanks, I'm a bit spooled, I like Scapa, its a single malt scotch from the Orkneys." I said. Roberto focused on pouring. Not a drop was spilled. J&B is expensive here and it's not sold at the local village store that could fit in your kitchen at the bace of the mountain. "How do you keep the dolls up" I asked. "With string", he said. In time mother nature uses her moss,that turn into small vines to hold them.

Roberto sat down and took a few long swigs. My underarm deodorant was succumbed by the scent of scotch and heat from his answers that flowed out as smooth as his scotch into his glass.