Korridorium

♫ 125 Proof ♫

203/398

I enter the cor­ri­dor, or rather, roll into it and through to the bar­rel ware­house where I will spend the next decades. While inwardly burned out, I’m slowly breath­ing in the alter­na­tion of day­time heat and night­time cool, of sum­mer and win­ter in Ken­tucky, as del­i­cate wood aro­mas blend with my pre­cious con­tents. Though I am merely a hum­ble oak ves­sel, with luck and my utmost ded­i­ca­tion, what matures within me might even­tu­ally be granted the honor of a sin­gle-cask bot­tling, bring­ing joy to con­nois­seurs world­wide who appre­ci­ate my decades of faith­ful ser­vice.

Bour­bon: