Carl W. Bosch

The Bushmills in his glass was drained when Callum ordered, “One more for the road, Declan, if you please.” “You mean the walk, don’t cha?” the reply came. “Yeah, the walk. I may be old, but I still know the way with me eyes closed. Half past the post office, turn right at the third stone wall. Up the hill until you can see the moon over the hilltop, assuming there is a moon, two fields to the left, and there I am. Now pour me that whisky and don’t be bashful.” “Better drink