Consider red wine in slender generous glasses, an unheated loft with exposed beams, blood on glass from fingercut trying to corkscrew slice the plastic cap off $2 bottle of red wine, a way of doing it right that cost me some skin, then standing on black iron catwalk above orange tiles of slanted roof, Declan's tin flute Irish ditty ethereal, stumpy round chimneys whisper coal dust into the air, dusk and the castle lit up across the river (always the castle), roofs and spires piled one atop another by alcohol foreshortening or some trick of the atmosphere...

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