The usual glass of cognac

Hearing the moped passing down the street,
Mr. Nothing thought about that morning
when, instead of the usual glass of cognac,
he had ordered a glass of water, and as he waited
for the train, he had listened to the stratagems
coming from the table right behind. Unfortunately,
he had nothing to be fond of, and even the sound
of the accordion played skilfully in the underpass
did not make him shudder, as it usually did.
At home, he spent his time opening and closing
the curtains and taking care to replace an empty
tissue box with a new one. At work, he paid attention
to the use of words like “certainly” and “of course.”
And he was actually at peace with such a life,
somehow avoiding many of its predicaments.
Only, he could no longer stand that glass of cognac,
served with the rest of the day.

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