The Invisible Spirit of Wine
“Jack never gets drunk,” Owen complained, loudly, before setting his fresh pint of lager on the table.
“He drinks, though,” Gwen said.
“Maybe he doesn’t drink the right drink,” Ianto suggested.
Tosh giggled, “Maybe he should be drinking umbrella drinks,” and she held up her clear glass filled with a pink liquid and a turquoise blue paper umbrella.
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“He drinks, though,” Gwen said.
“Maybe he doesn’t drink the right drink,” Ianto suggested.
Tosh giggled, “Maybe he should be drinking umbrella drinks,” and she held up her clear glass filled with a pink liquid and a turquoise blue paper umbrella.
( Read more... )
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And probably sticky, and sweet.
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