There she was, in nurse’s scrubs, dancing in a dive bar located just miles from the sea, twirling, inebriated, to her friends half-decent karaoke performance, a tattoo of a sword and shield showing on her right shoulder.
There was his future wife, a ripe new unadulterated fan of his, but he was nervous and had left his front door wide open; the bartender had poured him a tall double, whiskey and cola, a new beginning it would seem, being nudged across the leather-upholstered table at him, the fumes not overwhelming as his first night here when he had traded in for a short cup and gotten so drunk he started spitting at the wall.
This time it would be different, he just had to go home, he was cold, he would be right back.
Alex Ash Creative 