Contributor: Elyk S. Von Ire - - Jon’s drunk again. Swaying at the table. Willing his eyes to stay open. Hebrew swirls in the air around us with the smoke. Jon stares forward. His eyelids are anchors that tow his head down with them. He snaps it back up and looks around. Again, he stares. He nods. The three Israelis are either too stoned or too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice Jon’s slumping head or closing eyes. But I’d never be able to tell for sure. I don't speak Hebrew either. Maybe they are discussing it ad nauseum. Jon nods. His eyes closed. When he opens them, slowly, he looks at me. His eyes are glistening. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t. His eyes rest on the bottle of rum, it's triumphant last inch still at the bottom. He grabs the bottle and turns the label towards him. I assume he is staring, not reading....

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Author: Elyk S. Von Ire