Jägermeister

Jägermeister on the Edge of My Memories

Warning! This photoshoot depicts alcohol use. Alcohol is bad for your health!  

…
This bottle remains somewhere on the edge of my consciousness, constantly returning, like a star you barely notice in the pure, dark blue sky. Its image came to me, reminding me of its place, of its existence, like a nearly forgotten thought, like a dream faded in the morning. And so it circled, like a single snowflake under a streetlamp. And now it has become a quiet memory, while old thoughts soothe me with tender nostalgia, while I gaze at the thin slit of a crescent moon outside the window in the fading twilight, dancing between the lights of high-rise buildings, and a slightly sad, yet somehow calm, smile freezes on my face…

***
Actually, I’ve seen it once before. There was already snow outside, and I was visiting a friend. He was giving me a tour of the apartment, showing me what had changed since last time I was there about six months ago. And then he opened the last cabinet in the kitchen by the window. It was empty except for a single bottle of half-empty Jägermeister in a dark, sticky bottle. Yet no one in the apartment dares touch it, for it remains for an old friend who might one day come again to visit. But when? No one knows. But in hope, this bottle remains as the only quiet reminder, sad, yet inspiring and hopeful in its own way.

And that bottle still lingers in my thoughts, a strange memory now forever associated with the kitchen in a lonely December apartment, and the soundtrack to “Ballade Arabo-Andalouse” by La Femme.