Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Tiki Drink with Cigarette

It was a Tuesday, afternoon, late.  He wasn't there, and it was her second tropical drink.

Somewhere between the isolation and the anger her cigarette spun scant consolation.

Deep inside her velvet purse, her fingers toyed with the Derringer's safety.  The sweat was beginning to mass beneath her makeup, threatening to reveal her thoughts.

He had two minutes to show up before things got ugly....