Whisky was his drink of choice.
Not the good stuff.
It had been a long time since he’d had enough money to buy a decent single malt from Scotland.
No, he bought the unbranded crap from the shop on the corner.
You got used to the taste, after a while.
This is the two-hundred-and-twenty-eighth story in the series of Humpbuckle Tales. Each story is precisely 50 words long. They are meant to be independent stories, but if you read them all you will find each one adds another piece to the puzzle – there is a bigger story that is being told.
Hive is a blogging platform that rewards posts in a cryptocurrency (Hive).
You will find over 70 more Humpbuckle Tales on the @humbuckletales Hive blog (so this blog is about 6 weeks behind)
On Hive I publish 12 stories per week (Monday to Saturday one story per day and then six 50-word stories in one post on a Sunday).
On HumpbuckleTales.com I also publish 12 tales a week but at a different schedule (and about 6 weeks behind): 2 Tales every day, Monday-Friday and 1 Tale on Saturday and 1 Tale on Sunday.