Neat Rings

Clink; clink-clink, was the ice’s reply to the whisky glass in which it had bounced around – there was no whisky in the glass, mind you (let alone any other liquid). William encouraged the ice’s soliloquy by idly swirling the glass around to the rhythm of train-wheels against the tracks. The very same train whose dining cart William was staring out of with his chin rested in his palm and the very same tracks that separated two remote towns. Clink-click, said the ice in the winter of 1906.