I go out to the garage, and find my prey. There it sits shrouded in the cold and dark. I tread quietly, silently opening the door behind which it hides. I grab it. Its' coolness a shock to my skin. I carry it back into the warmth of my house. I find a glass, and get the ice.
Psssst. I crack open the can. I can see the bubbles in the can. Hear the pop of the carbonation against the metal of the can. I pick it up, ever so carefully, to avoid spilling a drop of this precious liquid. I tip it gingerly into the open mouth of the welcoming cup. Pouring slowly, watching the foam as it bubbles up. Trying to control the urge to pick up the cup, and gulp it down. Watch the foam settle down, and pour the rest into the cup. See the foam once more threaten to over take the cup.
Slowly I lean down, and take a nibble from the foam. Taking care not to take too much. I stand back, licking my lips, anticipation taking hold of me. Hands tremble ever so slightly as I reach to take the cup from its perch. Holding the cup up to my lips, I take a deep gulp this time. I let it fill my mouth. It surrounds my teeth, and blankets my tongue. The sweetness filling my every taste bud. I swallow slowly, not wanting to let it go too soon, but already thirsting for a second drink. I can feel its coolness as it slides down my throat, into the abyss that is my stomach. I continue this ritual until sadly my cup is empty. I stare into its vast emptiness. Missing the sweet, bubbly brown liquid goodness.
My hands shake. My mouth waters. My eyes search out where I might get the next fix. Looking for the familiar red color, and white swirly line. I await its arrival yet again.
Coca-Cola, you are my vice.
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