He’d have a drink.

That seemed sensible.

That’s what men in the movies did after a particularly trying experience, and this was that for him…trying.

Finding a drink however, was not as easy as deciding to have one. A good rummage through the cupboards rendered a pathetic array of alcohol containing items – vanilla extract, soy sauce, and a crusty/rubbery tipped, practically empty bottle of cooking sherry long forgotten and pushed back into the corner where rarely used spices are condemned to expire. Not that any alcohol he found would mix well with the half a cup of lemonade, or the quarter-full jug of ‘this smells like it’s gone bad buttermilk the refrigerator offered.

Not even something as simple as having a drink was going to work out. He shook his head and opted for water from the tap, but poured the first glass he drew down the drain, deciding instead for hot water from the tap. At least that had a little bit of danger about it.

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