Apr 9, 2015
the chore of wiping out glasses is a comforting monotony, a task -- though menial -- which is sufficient to keep the screaming in his head at a minimal roar. the dim squeak of a barstool draws his gaze away; the surprise of its occupant jerks a small smile onto his lips. he pours her shot of vodka before leaning forward against the bar.
’ -- thought you were off a half hour ago? '