Last call

September 20, 2007 § 3 Comments


It was Setare’s last shift and already everything was different.  The new night supervisor hovered over us like a nun, looming in the smokeless dark as the clock edged toward close.  Undaunted, our bartender ran tabs that would never come due, and I gratefully lost count of the glasses she filled. 

We watched her cash out and then sped away for a nightcap, buzzing with conversation and weekend plans.  As we drank, the pall of the summer fell away and something else took its place: not hope but a turning of the mind toward different prospects. 

Without nostalgia, we toasted our friend before making our way home, each walking alone the last of the way, bracing against tomorrow’s hangover.


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