It’s high noon. Hot, as a puddle of condensation accumulates from your Aperol spritz. The rebrand was a nice touch, and was likely the root cause of acquiring a bottle for the home bar. The Vornado fan breezes as you sit on the porch. Dreaming of the girl from Ipanema you met while at Lake Como in ‘89. Linen whites, beach hats, Ferragamo loafers, and glasses you picked up for 3.25 at the local's corner shop. They were dusty, scratched, and appeared to have been sitting at the store for the past 32 years. Regardless, how could one pass up on such an irresistible deal?

You drove from Florence taking in the Italian countryside. Driving in style, a Ferrari 250 SWB you got on loan from Uncle Michelangelo. You have the privilege to call him Mickey. You promised you’d take care of it, though those intentions may not be realized… after all, it’s a Ferrari.

The cool heat breezed, the bumble bees from the broken screen and yawn from the fat cat along with a sneeze. Out west the gathering of thunder clouds. Oh, gosh the humidity was unbearable. A good rainfall is most welcomed. Thunder only happens when it’s raining, after all. Your contemporary of 20 years comes walking in wearing her favorite sundress of 17 years. A few small eyelets developed through the many wears and washes. Regardless this hasn’t prevented her fondness for the delicate fabric she picked up in Spain; while on her first international trip with the love of her life. Just two beating hearts, the proposal, the small-town boy, and her bolivia Daiquiri.

It’s half past noon. Hot, as a puddle of condensation accumulates from what remains of your Aperol spritz. A daring smile, a gentle kiss, a hug; as you clandestinely with your free arm slyly pick up her glass to take a sip of-

The Bolivia Daiquiri.