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Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-Auld_Lang_Syne-by_Stephen_G_Eoannou.docx

“After it blossomed, we were all to come home at Christmas, no matter where we lived, and open it together and have a holiday drink.” “I flew in from Miami this morning. I didn’t think I’d make it with this weather,” the taller man said, shivering. “My blood’s gotten thin. I forgot what winters are like up here.” Griff studied his face, trying to picture it in his rearview mirror, pointed downward as he typed on his phone. He was certain he wasn’t his Chapin Parkway fare. “Bill promised it would taste like no other wine we’d ever have and we’d never forget our Christmas drink,” the shorter man said, smoothing his goatee into place with his fingertips. “We were to toast our health, the good lives we led, the friendship we’ve had since we were kids. Bill was certain we’d all turn out all right.” “Should I pour it now or do you want to wait for Bill a little longer?” the bartender asked. The taller man turned on his stool and looked toward the window. “It’s snowing again,” he said. “Harder than before.” Griff followed the man’s gaze. The wind had shifted, pulling the storm back over the city. The snow was coming down at an angle, veiling the lamp post outside the restaurant in shrouded light. He could see the parked cars being covered. Soon the Chrysler’s dents and rust spots would disappear, all the


Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest-Auld_Lang_Syne-by_Stephen_G_Eoannou.docx
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