The decrepit state of the southern wall was the first thing that I had noticed. The entire wall was a patchwork of inexpertly applied plaster and flecks of faded wallpapers that hung tattered and torn, which gave the wall the appearance of a telephone pole that had been covered in too many posters, flyers and stickers over the years. Yellow wallpaper peeked out from behind faded floral designs; strips of Chinoiserie paper peeled and commingled with destroyed bits of Damask in the upper left corner. Along the bottom of the wall I spotted torn treillage that had been hastily slathered over with Strawberry Thief. The overall effect was that of a train wreck, and I had a hard time peeling my eyes from the peeling paper.

For Mother,

This free series is written by lovers of stories and drinks; two things that can be most bitter and full of spirits. Each story comes with a recipe for the drink that inspired it. Sláinte.