She was on her way out of town and had vowed to never come back. Yet here she was. Working with her for the last few years had been torture. Pouring her a drink, with her now on the other side of the bar, was just sad.
She had on every piece of jewelry she owned, two overnight bags at her feet and a bus ticket. Her best dress was on her petite frame even though it was as worn as she was. She accessorized it with a pack of cigarettes in her bosom.
Neither of us said a word. She wondered why I was staying and I couldn’t imagine where she thought she was going. I just kept topping off her drink. It wasn’t my liquor but it was all I had to give.
She knew that. I knew that. She had to be anywhere but here.