Today I was entrusted with a timeworn shrine of immense social, cultural and historical significance. Vivia personally delivered after a long circuitous journey of over eight thousand kilometers and untold years. A rigid Canadian Mountie sits atop a bottle of Le Célèbre Screech de Terre-Neuve, ("Famous Newfoundland Screech"). The Mountie is not alone; he is surrounded by a small constellation of two plastic black cats and two porcelain kangaroos. All the figure are at perfect stasis.
Contrary to the label's assertions, the amber liquid inside the bottle comes from Kentucky, not Puerto Rico. It is in fact Wild Turkey whiskey, 101 proof. The Wild Turkey is going fast, and so am I.
I am becoming caught in the curious altar's orbit. Beauty, eh?
