The sun was setting on more than the day, and the old men sipped, laughed and remembered in equal measure. Even though it was decades ago, they drank to a time when they had no talisman or hope. When they were outnumbered and outgunned, ten to one. They enjoyed the setting sun, the warmth, those who made it and remembered those who didn’t.
The reconciled the fact that on stolen time, the best way to waste it is with the ones who stole it with you.