There is something especially pleasing about smoking a large Havana cigar while drinking brandy. Feet resting on a leather stool, with the windows open on a late afternoon in summer and the rush-hour traffic grumbling along below. How content one can be.
This was the thought that filled my mind as I let the smoke roll round my mouth and the alcohol warmed my heart.
The moment was broken by the junior who rushed in.
It’s done, he said: We’ve been successful. The schools are ruined, gone.
I smiled. Ah, that content feeling again; truly the way things should be.