“Civilization is like a thin layer of ice upon a deep ocean of chaos and darkness.” -Werner Herzog
The fourth story in the November series.
A champagne cork popped, cheering laughter following as the one holding the bottle attempted to stop the frothing liquid from staining his clothing. Various members of the crew threw towels at the floor, while Dayo took the first long gulp from the bottle. Another member of the crew grasped for the slick glass, deciding it was, in fact, their turn for a drink of the sweet sparkling wine.
One by one each of the crew had their turn. Some to busy laughing with joy to drink with grace, slobber, and alcohol dribbling down their chin as they pulled the glass mouth away. Finally, it made a full-circle around the gathering and the near-empty bottle found itself in the hands of the final crew member. A young of spirit man, though well into his life if the soft creases around his eyes were to give anything away. Charlie tilted his head back to drink, short brown coils bouncing around his face when another hand rocketed out and flipped the bottle completely upright.