More to wine

A skin of leather, rough and old, a paper crinkled thousand-fold, a dusty room, the scent of pine, would you believe that I mean wine?   A scent of herbs and tar and rose, a land of fog still in your nose, a score of ninety-nine point nine, yet, there is so much more to wine.   A berry colour, dark and red, a million words all left unsaid,…
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