We met last summer. Or was it a dream. I knew she’d reappear. I’ve found myself coming back to this field of American golden wheat; almost involuntarily. It’s like muscle memory. Is she an apparition? Lying here, submerged, an impressionist’s countryside as far as the eyes can see. I smell her perfume. Ample white grapefruit with just a hint of lemon. Her skin, a hazy straw colour, with a foamy head I’d never forget. I knew she’d reappear. She told me I could call her Sorachi Ace and Galaxy. I’m reminded how we could talk all day, crushing each sessionable conversation as if the words were speaking themselves. We kept it light and crisp at first, but once we got chatting, the complexity revealed itself. We just kept on talking, all summer long, a conversation as old as ourselves. Blurring the lines between the real, the imagined, the future, and the past. She had a lingering bitterness wrapped up in a bouquet of summer air. It was intoxicating. I knew she’d reappear.
Hazy Affair Hoppy Wheat. Available in the bottle shop now. 4.5%, 21 IBU, making all your summer dreams come true.