(no subject)
The front door opens, and Xas moves quietly toward the bar, fetching a glass of wine.
He settles himself in a booth, back pressed to the wall, not quite slouching.
It's a near thing, though.
At least the color of the wine is good, and it tastes sweet. Things could be worse.
He settles himself in a booth, back pressed to the wall, not quite slouching.
It's a near thing, though.
At least the color of the wine is good, and it tastes sweet. Things could be worse.