Whiskey in the night

"As long as you are happy and not harming anyone in the process, it is all fine," I repeated these words in my mind as I sat in the community garden and uncorked the last bottle of whiskey.

It was past midnight, and the lights of most of the apartments had gone off. As I took another swallow, enjoying the breeze, I heard a voice behind me, "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

The woman wore a white dress that fluttered in the wind, but her face was hard to see in the dark.

"Do you want to drink?" I asked her.

"I only want to talk," she said.

And then we spoke of the weather, politics, cinema and literature. She listened to me with rapt attention.

"Also," I said blushing, "sometimes when I am in the mood, I sing."

"Oh, I hope you would sing for me."

"All right," I said and began to hum in a low voice. Gradually I started to open up, and during the chorus of the song, I stood on the park bench, to give the effect of standing on a stage, and sang the higher octave of the song.

in the morning I woke up in an unfamiliar place. I sat myself on the bed and held my head. A shot of pain took over my left eye. That's when the watchman walked in.

"Sir, there is a community complaint against you. You were shouting in the garden at night. I carried you to my room."

I thanked him with some cash for the trouble taken and walked out as I tried to recall what happened. That day, I received a letter from the association asking me to clear off if such an incident happened again.

At night I went to the spot. I would never be sure if my companion were just my drunk hallucination. But we had a good conversation, and she appreciated my singing. So I guess it was fine anyway.