Delight is well and fair to tease the tongue and dance the tonsils, but friendship, old and true, thusly sated and thrice proven, is worth the wait to chill the bottle. And that, my friend, that is rare. Look upon grizzled chins with lips that sip and smile neatly cold and cloudy Ouzo. See them laugh. See them talk. See them share time’s bounteous years. The gather in the corner there slow of pace and speech too muted, but add the water cold as ice – but add not the ice or freeze them out – and see the clouds swirl and form the greatest parea. Add to that small plates, and an afternoon of greatest kefi transforms the old to gods upon a hill. Listen, watch, sip, and join. Let no Olympian drink alone. Share the life, thus will friendship’s toils delight your years.
Well done again. I’ve had raki, but not sure I’ve had ouzo.
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