Clyde’s routine was repetitive, but comforting. The sound of the Duke Tape, the smell of beer, the slow, meandering conversations with customers — everything held a strange kind of peace. He liked it that way.
That is, until a beautiful redhead walked into the bar. Ophelia, with an easy smile and eyes that saw more than they let on, was looking for a job. Clyde nearly dropped a glass — and not because of his mechanical arm. His heart skipped a beat.
From that day on, he started measuring time by the moments she came near with a joke or a silly question. He called her Phee, softly, like a secret only he knew. She moved around the bar as if had always belonged there, and Clyde, like a fool, just watched.
Jimmy and Mellie noticed right away. The teasing followed, along with barely stifled laughter. Clyde, gruff and red as a tomato, couldn’t deny it: Ophelia was like sunlight breaking through a dusty window.
The final blow came when she tied her hair back with a red handkerchief forgotten beneath the counter — a keepsake from Clyde’s father. Phee wore it as if it were hers. And in that moment, it truly seemed to be... just like his heart.
After many glances and quiet pauses, Clyde finally mustered the courage to ask her out to dinner, stumbling over his words. He expected a maybe. He got — instead — a radiant smile and a kiss on the cheek.
“I thought you would never invite me...”
Behind the counter, Jimmy and Mellie peeked over, giggling at the two fools who had finally stopped dancing in circles.
And at the Duke Tape — a place where nothing much ever changed — a different kind of story had begun. Awkward, simple, and sincere — just like Clyde himself — all thanks to the lovely, sweet Phee.
For @mytbrisgrowing 🫶🏻
