the bar was full, except the one drink she wanted, so she ordered a name she heard him drop earlier. looking at the bottle, maybe she pronounced it wrong? at first sip it wasn't great, but he pointed to the bottle and gave it a thumbs up, so she kept raising it to her lips intermittently, usually when he was turned towards her, and this wasn't her.
thick mist spewed from a machine and covered the floor and the speakers were so loud and she wondered what it would be like if the fog and music were too thick to walk through, like running in sand or mud or the kind of wind that races across Illinois plains.
he looked older and angrier outside of the stage light, and the singer started playing a song she didn't even write.
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