I popped the final radish into my mouth and crunched away. That was the last of my lunch. Cleaning up, I noticed my coffee cup still had a few swallows in it.
3:15 PM. Probably not too late for a quick swig.
Swig. Tumblers fell together. Memories cracked open.
Dad offered me a cup. “Here, take a swig of this.”
I don’t remember what was in the cup. I was arrested by swig. “What’s a swig?”
“You never heard that before? It’s a sip, a drink.”
I’d heard of them, along with gulp. Mom was always telling me not to gulp while Dad would encourage me to take a gulp.
I took a swig of the coffee and then another before pouring the rest out and cleaning out the cup. One good swig deserves another.