The group’s laughter echoed off the stained, plaster ceiling. I raised my beer, but before I clinked the bottles together, I challenged him. “You think you’re a man I won’t forget?”“Ah’m nae any man ye’ve met before.”“Praise be,” I smirked, “the others haven’t been worth spit.”Then the whiskey came, and I was taken by the tawny light, forgetting to worry about my ‘crazy’. Until Angus’ efforts at gilding my heart, called my ‘alter’ to the fore.
-Cheryl R Cowtan
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