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December 29, 2007
Descriptive Essay

My thumb traced over the raised letters on the beer bottle. It was brown, like the liquid it and several of its brothers had once contained. Pleasantly drunk, I regarded the symmetry of the bottle with admiration, and enjoyed its cold smoothness in my hand.

I was sure that people were staring at me, but I became increasingly fascinated with the bumps on the bottom of the bottle, and ran my thumbnail along them to produce a captivating Latin rhythm which my friends did not appreciate.

“This thing is a work of art,” I thought, and ordered another.