Drinking Poncar

By Julian Hebbrecht

Suddenly

There it was.

In the middle of the table.

A bottle of Poncar.

Everybody laughed.

Poncar!

Hahahaha!

Then the room went quiet.

Poncar.

Silence.

People held their breath.

Poncar.

You almost could hear people think it.

Then somebody whispered it.

"Poncar"

A nervous giggle began somewhere but stopped short.

Poncar.

People looked at each other across the room.

Was this a joke?

Drinking Poncar had been illegal for over a century.

If this was really Poncar there in that bottle, we could all be…

Oh my God…

Poncar.

Only ancient stories, myths, talked about it.

People seldom did.

Occasionally you'll find Poncar mentioned in an old novel.

Wrinkled old men liked to prattle about it.

On winter evenings around the fire.

Poncar.

Did this mean that tonight…?

Sebastian would never put a Poncar bottle on the table filled with… would he?

Of course not..

The color was exactly the way it…

Not that anyone of us had ever seen a bottle of Poncar.

In old photographs or paintings you might spot one but…

Even those images were illegal.

Ridiculous.

Poncar.

A full bottle of Poncar!

Suddenly people realized what this meant and began to talk all at once.

Would tonight really be…?

People started to get excited.

Even before the bottle was opened and the glasses filled, people felt exhilarated.

Where was Sebastian?

Always full of surprises.

Sebastian's parties were very exclusive.

No written invitations were ever sent, no phone calls.

A single whispered word in an elevator, a hallway or a dressing room.

"Tonight."

A meaningful look.

That was all.

We knew the time, we knew the place and we all knew each other.

We had known each other for years.

We trusted each other with our lives but…

Poncar.

The formula had been a secret and was thought to be lost.

Rumors had it the ingredients came all the way from Peru.

The Middle East, others said.

No, the Far East.

China

Some swore it all had started in Africa.

Medieval monks first made it.

After the Crusades.

Nothing but rumors.

Was there still anyone alive who knew how to make Poncar?

Where did this bottle come from?

Had it been found in some forgotten cellar?

Had it been smuggled into the country? But from where?

And who would take that risk?

Still.

Suddenly

There it was.

In the middle of the table.

A bottle of Poncar.

Everybody laughed.

The End - Back to the start