In Your Best Prose

my dad used to give me ginger ale when i was sick

Give me give me gingie aley
Mummy mummy give me NOW

>>9865663
My grandma gave me ginger ale and then she croaked like a rat.

A sweet taste
Fills my mouth
I come
Inside Op's mom

>>9865676
Jokes on you, we just cremated her. Lololol.

>fucks a jar of dust

>>9865663
When I was a kid my mom worked as a house maid for different clients, she would take me with her on the weekends so I could help out or hang out and watch tv on the big screens the rich folks would have, most of her clients were older people, 70s and 80s. One of these were a well off couple that had been married for five decades and they still looked like they loved each other. She'd reproach him for putting too much salt on his food and he'd make dirty jokes about her even in front of me, they would laugh so I would laugh too. We would all have a good laugh as we ate lunch and drank Ginger Ale, they're favorite drink. They had a beautiful backyard with a colorful garden off the corner of the house and a golden brown Lab that liked to play catch. I still remember the first time I came back into the house thirsty and sweaty as all hell and drank a cold glass of the yellow effervescent drink. It was delicious. That was years ago and I can barely remember their faces or their names for that matter, and are probably dead by now, but I can still remember the cold glass and the ice crackling with dirt under my nails and the 4 o'clock sun hiding behind the fence.

I do not drink ginger ale myself. The fizz doesn't agree with me, causes a queasiness somewhere below my navel. Once I was sent to purchase a bottle of it for a friend, who when asked what soda he wanted gesticulated rather than make a decision. In the parking lot of a stop and shop I stood waiting for my friend who had driven me there. I had been unable to drive for I had been drinking heavily since that morning. In actuality I do not even know why I went with him on the soda run. A tired man fueled his car not far away, staring at my penguin patterned pajama pants and messy dark hair. I wondered if he took offense or merely wanted to look at a curiosity, and suspected the former. In my drunken haze I sat and stared up past the gas station's lights towards the night sky.

It was dark.

I'm an awful writer

>>9865663
One time after we went to the waterpark in the city, I spent too much time outside and damp (why the hell we went to a waterpark in October, I don't know) and I ended up getting a cold. Pretty nasty one too. And with my dad working all the time, my mom took me with her while she ran errands. I watched her get money from the bank and mail in letters and packages for friends, while I sat in the car, shivering. At the end of all of it, we went to Walmart and got a frozen pizza for the family. I got a ginger ale because mom told me the carbonation would help me feel better. I still remember the cool, syrupy taste. Then at home, the family stayed up watching Top Gear on tv and eating pepperoni pizza.

Despite being sick, that was a very good day. And I wish I could experience it again.

>>9865663
When I was a boy I first learned how much better ginger ale tastes when it has set a while in an evergreen bucket. Warmish-cool, with a faint taste like the crisp December wind in evergreen trees smells. It has to set at least two hours, and be drunk from a crystal glass. Ginger ale should never be drunk from metal. And at night it is better still. I used to lie on the couch in the den, waiting until I could hear them all asleep, so I could get up and go back to the bucket. It would be black, all black, the still surface of the ginger ale a round orifice into nothingness, where before I stirred it awake with the dipper I could see maybe an icecube or two in the bucket, and in the dipper maybe an icecube or two before I drank. After that I was bigger, older. Then I would wait until they all went to sleep so I could lie with my glass up, hearing them asleep, mixing cranberry juice into my ginger ale, feeling the cool silence blowing upon my cup and wondering if Dan was yonder in the darkness doing it too, had been doing it perhaps for the last two years before I could have wanted to or could have.