Dating : Books, Booze, Thoughts and Love

Books, Booze, Thoughts and Love

The philosopher put his book on the desk and looked up slowly at his class. He could smell just a hint of whiskey from the coffee in his cup as it sat on his desk. Was right and wrong arbitrary, up to the individual only. Did the human condition encompass an innate quality of compassion? If it didn’t would the species exist still? Would we know when amending was needed to secure the rights in things such as our own Constitution?

He looked at Claire seated in front. He had been looking for two semesters. Her skirt was short, her top, flowing, sheer and blue. “Sky blue”, he thought and glanced out the window. He thought of the Tao and his early days on this journey. The thick of the woods, the slick of a stream flow. And he did flow. Wine bottles, spread thighs and the lusting of younger love. He had it all upon him.

After class he always played chess at the pub, if he still needed a drink that is. Between moves he though of her, only. After taking his opponents king (as he was been saturated in booze and gazing at the jukebox), he collected his books and rose to leave. “What will you play?” “More Dylan I presume.” “Yep” he mumbled and fumbled with the coins in his dry hands. He left as John Wesley Harding began.

He would pass out soon. Tomorrow to bring much of the same. Was it good, bad, neutral? In the right mind it could sing hallelujah and Camus would exclaim, “Glorious.”