Zenichi had found a small but elegant tavern. It was strange the things you will crave when living a blight life. When he was younger, he had hated the mere smell of alcohol. Wine, Run, Gin, it was all revolting. He remembered the first time he tried alcohol, it was a shot of whiskey. The urge to vomit outshined the euphoric feeling of the spirits. As he got older though, he never really liked alcohol but would find himself drinking it none the less. It was a cheap escape from reality, a way to calm his nerves from a long day. He wold watch older generations drink Sake as if the plums fell straight from a branch into their drinking saucers. He couldn't imagine growing accustomed to such a sour taste.
As he lived the starving artist life in Moon, he was forced to drink home made wine. Zenichi called it Double Burning Dragon because it burned your throat and then burned your belly. It was horrible but a means to an end. He didn't want to drink it but sorrow dictated his actions, not desire. As he trekked to Stone, up rigorous passages and through steep valleys, his body seeped all of the poison from his pours. It made his muscles weak from withdraw and his mind would go mad with a yearning. Zenichi couldn't bring himself to drink the swill anymore, he was done with such crude things and wouldn't sink to such lows. As he laid beneath a blanket of stars, he dreamed of a refined spirit that slowly crept into ones mind, avoiding all the taste.
Bartender, Give me something smooth and light. I want to feel it before I taste it.
He sat upon the stool, glaring at his world worn face and picked at some dried edamame peas before him. A pianist played a slow melody for entertainment in the background and someone's perfume lingered in the air. He knew he was out of place here but knew he had to find a magic elixir to calm his nerves once again
As he lived the starving artist life in Moon, he was forced to drink home made wine. Zenichi called it Double Burning Dragon because it burned your throat and then burned your belly. It was horrible but a means to an end. He didn't want to drink it but sorrow dictated his actions, not desire. As he trekked to Stone, up rigorous passages and through steep valleys, his body seeped all of the poison from his pours. It made his muscles weak from withdraw and his mind would go mad with a yearning. Zenichi couldn't bring himself to drink the swill anymore, he was done with such crude things and wouldn't sink to such lows. As he laid beneath a blanket of stars, he dreamed of a refined spirit that slowly crept into ones mind, avoiding all the taste.
Bartender, Give me something smooth and light. I want to feel it before I taste it.
He sat upon the stool, glaring at his world worn face and picked at some dried edamame peas before him. A pianist played a slow melody for entertainment in the background and someone's perfume lingered in the air. He knew he was out of place here but knew he had to find a magic elixir to calm his nerves once again