Home is where we want to be, but I guess we’re already there? I suppose it doesn’t matter that the people you used to recognise have seagull faces and when you come home and ask for a hug, they wrap their wings around you instead of human arms and you can feel all the small bones and the tickle of their feathers against your skin. It’s still affection at the end of the day, don’t complain. So, I guess this must be the haze? We can’t tell humans from seagulls anymore, they all look the same, scavengers, the lot of them. Just animals looking for a home. It’s okay, we know nothing’s wrong… nothing.
What, you didn’t understand the above? New England style IPA. Golden Promise base with oats, wheat and dry hopped with Vic Secret and YCH HBC 586. Light amber, floral with tropical and citrus fruit on the nose, assertive bitterness and creamy body.
template file: single-beer