I sit here as the night drags on, crunching my M&Ms, drinking my ginger ale. I have an anthology of short fiction to keep me company, but even its pleasures are, by definition, short-lived.
I find myself wishing nothing more than to have a bottle of scotch instead of this empty can of ginger ale. Scotch and M&Ms? No, just scotch. Beer and M&Ms, but not scotch.