couleurs-et-cognac:
He drummed his fingers on the counter, giving her a confused look. “Gate crasher? Where do you work again?”
He poured himself a shot of vodka, too, and downed it in one gulp. “Hey, if it makes you feel better, at least you don’t have to deal with drunk people trashing the bar.”
Natalya cleared her throat and mentally prepared herself for what she was about to do. Boy, she will talking for a long time tonight.
“True. Thank God. Anyway, I work in a cemetery, you see,” she began, letting out a huff through her nose, “You know how it goes: solemn. Serious. Everyone’s in mourning. Tears were shed. This particular man I had to bury was... peculiar.” Oh hell, she can feel a migraine rise up her forehead. “Very... peculiar. Unorthodox, you might say.”











