The bees are in their boxes; the friends are in their car. We dance in little circles, and the fire warms our boots. The whiskey warms the tea; the radio stays off. Weeks pulse in rhythm.

Long is the amount of time between putting hot water in tea and drinking it. Short is the time between drinking hot tea and drinking cold tea. Absence is long. Presence is short.

Goodnight my friends, sleep well. Sleep at all, and say we meet again.