29 September 2011

A sensualist writes ...

I was sitting on the terrace of my favourite bar about lunchtime. Under the umbrella of course, for the hot sun was beating down. The bar-girl had just brought me my second beer. I watched as the condensation formed on the glass.

I lifted it, the glass pleasantly cold in my hand, and took in a mouthful. There is nothing to compare with a cold beer on a warm day. The way it slips effortlessly down your throat; the satisfactory weight sitting in your belly; the way the condensation drips on to the beer mat.

I was reminded of that old movie with John Mills and Sylvia Sims, although they gulped down the beer far too quickly. You've got to savour it. The exigencies of movie making, I suppose. And , hey, they captured the moment:

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Are those the opening paras of your long-dreamt about novel? Or are we in recess already?