Empty bottles clinked together sounding like rain rolling off the roof in a home that witnessed your transformation from the optimist to pessimist to realist. From afar you would look past their curvy edges as they appear empty. It’s the outer beauty that always wins battles while the inner one kills itself even before the war begins. Does that count as victory? Anyway, the emptiness is swallowed by all that breathes around them tearing open the mouth. The whole world can be poured into these glass bottles, merely cause they stand empty. Victory isn’t because the bottle is half full. Victory is because you emptied what was in full.