Absinthe is a strongly alcoholic aperitif (55%-72% alcoholic, or 110o-144o).
It is made from alcohol and distilled herbs or herbal extracts.
“La fee verte” or “the green fairy” as it is known originally in France Switzerland
Ene paused to catch her breath, while Tonye stared at her in open
amazement. “Amazing …” he thought. “What is it about talent and over indulgence? The mysteries of life ”.
The Bacchanalia was originated by a group of some of
the world’s wealthiest men. They are all connoisseurs of alcohol. Between them
they owned most of the world’s rarest and most expensive collector’s alcohol.
All of different religions and creeds, they all bow in reverence to Bacchus
(Dionysus) the Greek god of wine. They believe he is a generous god. To this cult Ene belonged. Far fetched but true. She’d just been
initiated along with three other females, making history in the corridors of
the eighty year old cult. The other two women were Caucasian and in their fifties. Ene was twenty five and Nigerian.
All bacchanalian’s were absintheurs. Absinthe to them is the refreshment of the gods . They’d secretly fought for the lifting of the ninety year old ban by the Swiss parliament on absinthe for ten years. Before their eventual victory in July of 2004, they’d worked underground pumping their unlimited resources into bank accounts on the side, and legitimately, on researches disputing the purported “psychoactive” properties of absinthe. Through all this, the Bacchanalia remained what it was. A secret society, their activities shrouded in secrecy. Strange sounding tales to Tonye until she got him to try absinthe.
Tonye shook his head as he reminisced. Ene was quite an enlightened girl. A major turn on for him. She knew so much and had experienced so much in her young life. She gave him an intellectual orgasm which was in effect more powerful and more lasting than the regular. She was more than he ever dared hope for as a girlfriend and wife.You don't understand, she was perfect. She first read the Kama Sutra at ten and kept reading it till she was twenty two by which time, she easily could have given lecturers on the art of sensuality. erotica and pure unadulterated, primal sex. Ene was all woman......all bad woman. The kind of woman a man would kill for. The girl was like a drug.
He turned around and looked at “Indulgence” it stood pompously on the mantle, the brain child of sheer brilliance and ingenuity, dedication and faith. A long black elegant bottle with INDULGENCE embossed boldly in silver on it. Beneath it in a smaller font, MANGO LIQUEUR. Slung gracefully on its swanlike neck is a silver tassel. Attached to the tassel is a recipe booklet. Small white and glossy, the pamphlet is embossed with SERVING INDULGENCE on the cover page. A silver cap completed this exquisitely packaged liqueur.
His eyes shifted an inch further and rested on a photograph of he and Ene, the love of his life. Everyone deserves to meet that one person. That person that you would truly catch a grenade for. Whether you would end together is not certain but the feeling is priceless.
She’d brought sunshine into his life with the sheer radiance that was her personality. Every time his eyes set on her, the "goner" alarm went off in his head. His chest constricts in pain as his eyes and heart devoured the picture.
He remembered the day all too clearly. Ene was drunk; not an unusual occurrence. She had hit the bottle hard at nine a.m that morning, it was four pm and she would have kept going if I hadn't insisted. She could barely walk but she insisted on having the picture taken.
The picture was beautiful, regardless. They were striking together. They’d become used to stares whenever they went out. Tonye is a striking young man and Ene was...well, different. Tonye’s looks and pedigree ensured that he didn't want for female companionship. He’d known more than his fair share of the fairer sex, but never had he met anyone like Ene. You wouldn't call her beautiful or even pretty but she was striking. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Tonye’s six feet two inches frame. Model scouts all over the world drove themselves nuts. Ene was simply not interested. Her face was pleasant and fresh. So completely unenhanced by make up that it was hard to believe she was actually a twenty four year old, with a master’s degree in chemistry. Her hairline transcended the accepted boundary. It rested nearly on her forehead. Her hair was full, jet black and wavy. She always wore it in a ponytail. Her eyebrows were thick and stenciled to perfection by nature. Eyelashes people were convinced were false and there ended the difference. The rest of her facial features were ordinary. She was ethereal slender and her skin gleamed mocha healthy which she attributed to regular sex.
Dressed in her customary get up of blue jeans rolled up and a black tee shirt, her toes peeking out of the beach sand and in her hands are a pair of red leather drivers, she was nestled in his arms when the beach photographer took the shot. Tonye’s arms had actually shot out instinctively to catch her as she teetered unsteadily beside him. Nice shot!
He replaces the pictures gently on the mantel and slowly walks to the sofa. Bringing out his phones from his pocket, he drops them on the coffee table and lies down on the sofa, facing the door. He looks at his watch and mentally calculates how many hours he’d wait before he went out looking for her. Routine. He longed for a chilled beer, but he’d come to fear alcohol and its vicious takeover of self. Ice cubes hitting glass stood his nerves on end.
Three weeks into his relationship, with Ene, he was convinced of two things. One, he’d found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He normally preferred very feminine females but this weird tomboy with her careless confidence and sex fiend sensuality had him totally in the palm of her hand.
All bacchanalian’s were absintheurs. Absinthe to them is the refreshment of the gods . They’d secretly fought for the lifting of the ninety year old ban by the Swiss parliament on absinthe for ten years. Before their eventual victory in July of 2004, they’d worked underground pumping their unlimited resources into bank accounts on the side, and legitimately, on researches disputing the purported “psychoactive” properties of absinthe. Through all this, the Bacchanalia remained what it was. A secret society, their activities shrouded in secrecy. Strange sounding tales to Tonye until she got him to try absinthe.
Tonye shook his head as he reminisced. Ene was quite an enlightened girl. A major turn on for him. She knew so much and had experienced so much in her young life. She gave him an intellectual orgasm which was in effect more powerful and more lasting than the regular. She was more than he ever dared hope for as a girlfriend and wife.You don't understand, she was perfect. She first read the Kama Sutra at ten and kept reading it till she was twenty two by which time, she easily could have given lecturers on the art of sensuality. erotica and pure unadulterated, primal sex. Ene was all woman......all bad woman. The kind of woman a man would kill for. The girl was like a drug.
He turned around and looked at “Indulgence” it stood pompously on the mantle, the brain child of sheer brilliance and ingenuity, dedication and faith. A long black elegant bottle with INDULGENCE embossed boldly in silver on it. Beneath it in a smaller font, MANGO LIQUEUR. Slung gracefully on its swanlike neck is a silver tassel. Attached to the tassel is a recipe booklet. Small white and glossy, the pamphlet is embossed with SERVING INDULGENCE on the cover page. A silver cap completed this exquisitely packaged liqueur.
His eyes shifted an inch further and rested on a photograph of he and Ene, the love of his life. Everyone deserves to meet that one person. That person that you would truly catch a grenade for. Whether you would end together is not certain but the feeling is priceless.
She’d brought sunshine into his life with the sheer radiance that was her personality. Every time his eyes set on her, the "goner" alarm went off in his head. His chest constricts in pain as his eyes and heart devoured the picture.
He remembered the day all too clearly. Ene was drunk; not an unusual occurrence. She had hit the bottle hard at nine a.m that morning, it was four pm and she would have kept going if I hadn't insisted. She could barely walk but she insisted on having the picture taken.
The picture was beautiful, regardless. They were striking together. They’d become used to stares whenever they went out. Tonye is a striking young man and Ene was...well, different. Tonye’s looks and pedigree ensured that he didn't want for female companionship. He’d known more than his fair share of the fairer sex, but never had he met anyone like Ene. You wouldn't call her beautiful or even pretty but she was striking. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Tonye’s six feet two inches frame. Model scouts all over the world drove themselves nuts. Ene was simply not interested. Her face was pleasant and fresh. So completely unenhanced by make up that it was hard to believe she was actually a twenty four year old, with a master’s degree in chemistry. Her hairline transcended the accepted boundary. It rested nearly on her forehead. Her hair was full, jet black and wavy. She always wore it in a ponytail. Her eyebrows were thick and stenciled to perfection by nature. Eyelashes people were convinced were false and there ended the difference. The rest of her facial features were ordinary. She was ethereal slender and her skin gleamed mocha healthy which she attributed to regular sex.
Dressed in her customary get up of blue jeans rolled up and a black tee shirt, her toes peeking out of the beach sand and in her hands are a pair of red leather drivers, she was nestled in his arms when the beach photographer took the shot. Tonye’s arms had actually shot out instinctively to catch her as she teetered unsteadily beside him. Nice shot!
He replaces the pictures gently on the mantel and slowly walks to the sofa. Bringing out his phones from his pocket, he drops them on the coffee table and lies down on the sofa, facing the door. He looks at his watch and mentally calculates how many hours he’d wait before he went out looking for her. Routine. He longed for a chilled beer, but he’d come to fear alcohol and its vicious takeover of self. Ice cubes hitting glass stood his nerves on end.
Three weeks into his relationship, with Ene, he was convinced of two things. One, he’d found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He normally preferred very feminine females but this weird tomboy with her careless confidence and sex fiend sensuality had him totally in the palm of her hand.
Two, she was an alcoholic
Alcoholism has little to do with will power. Alcoholic’s are in the grip of a
powerful “craving or uncontrollable need for alcohol that overrides their
ability to stop drinking. This need can be as strong as the need for food or
water. People are not normally able to recover from
alcoholism without help, the majority of alcoholics need assistance. And
assistance he really offered Ene. Sometimes Tonye felt hurt and inadequate but
love kept him on. It had been hard at first. She was double all that she was when she'd had alcohol in her system; Tonye was a mess for this girl. In trying to come to terms with
Ene’s alcoholism, he’d made excuses for her with people as he made to himself. Unfortunately, he had had to eventually admit it. To confront it and to tackle it.
They got talking and eventually exchanged numbers.
He also met her boyfriend Ali; a petulant young Arab with a pathological spending problem. He adored Ene (What red blooded man wouldn't?).
Ali came from an oil money family that could afford to buy whole countries for fun. Ali haven almost burnt down a wing of the library at Eton, had carried on with a reputation as a wild one. He was one of the British paparrazzi’s favourite subjects so Ene got her share of publicity and notoriety. They were a good match. She’d ended the relationship because she was returning home to
Tonye and Ene had immediately started dating when she returned to
Her parents accepted him instantly and grew to love and respect him.
His tenacity in loving Ene was nothing short of admirable. His heart mirrored
that of the Oga’s. The helpless torment, of witnessing the journey to
destruction of a loved one. Reality became more and more distorted. They were
glad to have “someone with Ene’s interest at heart in Lagos Abuja
“An alcoholic, owning a distillery?”
TO BE CONTINUED.....
“An alcoholic, owning a distillery?”
TO BE CONTINUED.....
“An alcoholic, owning a distillery?”
ReplyDeletelol...............i wonder oh! Well let see how it ends.
Absinthe (The green fairy)... that is some strong mind-fuckery drink sha! *Shudders*
ReplyDelete