Right On Time

Posted: August 18, 2015 in Uncategorized

The taste of sticky beer on her fingertips told the story not of a woman who’d spent her day drinking, but one who had been in service of those who had. Her feet and her back were in competition over who was in need of the most rest, but she didn’t care who won as long as they both had their prayers answered. Dirty dash rag tucked in the pocket of her black pants, hair tied into a ponytail that had gone from tight and neat to frizzy and significant of the minimum amount of effort, the neon lights had all been shut off, the jukebox played its last song, and as she locked herself in, the dizzy and dancing voices of minds so thoroughly detached from their bodies jigged and lilted and shouted from the streets. Someone would be by to pick up most everybody, be they friend or police officer, and the few who prioritized such things simply walked home singing or mumbling to themselves as they walked the straightest line no equilibrium would allow. But she just sighed and wiped down the tables, thinking of dinner and a shower and a long lie in her bed.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s